


The Dangers of Investigative Journalism

by NecroFaix



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Comic!Flash Thompson, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Movie!Eddie Brock, Multi, OT3, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Stubble Burn, Vigilantism, kind of?, symbiot3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecroFaix/pseuds/NecroFaix
Summary: After losing Anne and everything else fighting the Life Foundation, Eddie Brock has one goal. To pick up the pieces of his life and get out from under the shadow of his mistake. So maybe that makes him a little reckless, who cares? It's put him in the perfect position to hopefully get a huge scoop on Agent Venom, the mysterious vigilante in San Francisco. And possibly help uncover a city-wide conspiracy. While juggling a relationship with a closed-off but sweet disabled gym coach, deal with an alien that has a crush on him, and figure out what's really going on between him and this Agent Venom guy. His life has just gotten really weird, really great, and really dangerous.Alternate AU that starts out like the movie, with Eddie confronting the Life Foundation and losing everything. Only he's not the symbiote's first host, Flash Thompson is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, straight up, I'm writing this on a whim which means I don't know where I'm going with it, I'm not confident on any characterization, and I'm not fact-checking anything. I'm throwing this out into the universe with no plan or preparation. This is more of a movie-esque Eddie and Venom only the events of the movie didn't happen, and this is more of a comic book-esque Flash but set in the movie-verse. 
> 
> No editing because that means rereading what I wrote, probably not liking it, and then nothing will ever get posted. I also don't know how the criminal underworld works or how investigations work.
> 
> Good luck my dudes.

As much as people loved to get critical over cliches, if given a choice, most of them would end up picking a cliche over some obscure alternative. Cliches were known, expected, overused because they often worked and humans were creatures of habit. Case in point, weapons deals always seemed to happen near the piers. Even landlocked cities usually had large rivers that acted as a port of some sort. Maybe it was something about getting the weapons off boats and then immediately into the hands of sellers to cut out the potential of mistakes being made during transport. Maybe it was seen so often in movies that dealers just internalized the idea of always selling their weapons near shady warehouses right off the water. 

**If something goes wrong, it's easier to dump a body into the water rather than leave physical evidence in the trunk of a car.**

Or that. That was also an option. 

It was creeping past midnight and they were sitting on the side of a warehouse overlooking an area that would hopefully turn into a deal before it hit 2AM. Little tenders spread out from combat boots and kevlar-looking body armor to secure them safely to the stucco, blending into the shadows and seeing through the dark as if it was daylight. It was effortless to sit vertical like that, almost as easy as sitting on a flat floor for them. What wasn't easy was tracking the surplus of automated weapons down to the small dealer in the heart of San Francisco. One guy was managing to supply three different gangs and if his wares weren't cut off, there would be more blood on the streets. No one wanted that. 

**There's a car approaching.**

Finally. 

It was a school night, Flash really didn't want to be out this late but he refused to lose the only possible lead they might have on this guy. 

A black town car rolled up slowly, surveying. They turned off their lights and waited. 

And waited. 

...And waited. 

When Flash originally thought of being a superhero, it had seemed exciting. That was back when he was in high school and dreaming of people like Tony Stark and Captain America. He had imagined secret government missions and a life of intrigue and adventure. He knew he would keep his identity a secret but he imagined the pride at seeing his masked face on the front of newpapers, on TV, t-shirts, hell he probably would have bought his own merch back then just so he could carry a piece of that pride with him. Those daydreams had been all about the prestige. 

He learned in the military that being the quiet hero wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It was dangerous. It required sacrifice. He never truly understood how much Cap must have given up until he had his shot at being the hero, took it, and lost more than he thought he was ready to lose. 

He jumped at the chance for secret government missions after that. A way to get something back for himself and continue being a hero. That was the way to go, definitely. He would have someone in his ear telling him what to do, it would cut out those snap decisions that might cost him more than necessary. He would have someone that could see more than he did, could dictate his movements. 

It had sucked. 

The entire time he spent being a government operative had been spent imaging what it was like to be a vigilante without some cushy CO making decisions despite all of the pressure being on him. It was oppressive and made him feel cagey. 

Maybe one day he would learn that everything had it's drawbacks, because now he was a vigilante without that controlling voice in his ear and he had gone into it with that same sense of naive excitement, thinking it was going to be everything and more, only to realize that most of it was just this. Waiting. Watching. Desperately trying to find leads and information. He couldn't just swoop in and crack heads open, nope, he actually needed to listen an figure out who were the players were, otherwise he was just chasing down the foot soldiers and ignoring the general giving them orders from the safety of his office. 

There was so much waiting and doing nothing. 

**Focus. Van incoming.**

More cliches. Sleek business car meeting with a shady van filled with weapons behind a dockside warehouse. 

That's exactly what it was, too. They watched as the van pulled up and shut off the lights. A lone man exited, hands up to show he wasn't armed. Two men stepped out of the black car, one clearly the muscle and the other was some man in a suit. 

He looked familiar but nothing that either him or the symbiote could place. Didn't look like any of the known "masterminds" behind the local gangs, though. Mafia? Now that might be exciting. He adjusted himself against the concrete wall before making a silent jump to the next one over, the symbiote's added strength easily pushing him the distance, while micro-tendrils of it's matter stuck them to the wall where their boots and fingers touched. Neither of them had to put much thought into sticking and unsticking as they crept along the edge of the shadows, hoping to get close enough to hear the conversation or maybe even a name if they were lucky. 

The men doing the deal were quiet, voices a low murmur that easily blended into the sound of waves lapping against the concrete barrier. Together, they could just barely make out a few words of--

**_Ca-CLICK_ **

"Sh-Shit!"

The sound of a phone camera was practically deafening in the near silence, but if that didn't attract attention, the bright flash of light would have. It was followed by a soft curse and all attention of everyone at the scene turned to the darkened alley between two warehouses, the very one that Flash had just leap over. 

The voice was a familiar one, unfortunately, and they both groaned as the three men drew guns and pointed them towards the alley, demanding that whoever there come out. 

"Don't shoot! I'm just, uh..." Eddie fucking Brock shuffled out with his hands up, phone clutched in his left hand. They could practically see the moment he steeled himself to make some desperate attempt to negotiate his life. "The pictures were automatically sent to my editor, and I got clear shots of your faces. If I go missing, they know where to look. Doesn't look good on the city mayor to have their assistant be the last person to see me alive, especially when he was conducting a weapon's deal at the time." 

The mayor's assistant! That's why he looked familiar. 

A thought to dwell on later. 

Agent Venom dropped to the ground between the sound of two gunshots. The weapons dealer and the body guard dropped to the ground with shouts of pain, their potential football careers definitely over after the surgery they would need on their knees. The mayor's assistant turned his gun on the shadows to try to find the more immediate threat than a ballsy journalist with a cell phone. 

Two tendrils shot out of the shadows to push the fallen guns back from the two on the ground, though they seemed more concerned with their legs than going for their weapons. Meanwhile Agent Venom stalked towards the assistant, gun leveled him. "I wouldn't try it." Something about the expressionless face, the blank eyes, and the sheer confidence of his stride usually had people faltering and this man was no different. No fancy, three piece suit could change that. His gun lowered a fraction, like he was seriously debating putting it down, and that was all the time they needed. By the time it raised again and the look of angry defiance was in the man's eyes, they didn't need to stretch out a hand too far to grab the collar of his fancy outfit and yank him, a tendril snaking off to pull the gun from his grasp. 

Once secure, they turned their attention to Eddie, ignoring the man struggling in their grip with his toes barely touching the ground. "Really?" 

Eddie had been frozen with his hands up, eyes wide as he watched the scene, but the question had him looking a little sheepish before he slowly lowered his hands. "Yeah, that one's on me." 

"You think? Don't they cover turning off your phone volume and flash in Journalism 101, or were you sick that day?" 

"It's usually my default but I saw a cat on my way home from work last night so I played with the settings until I could get a good-- Yeah, you're probably not interested in the reason." 

They were staring silently in Eddie's direction, knowing exactly how intense a blank gaze like that could be, feeling satisfied when Eddie started to fidget uncomfortably under the weight of it. 

The moment was interrupted by the crack of another gunshot that made Eddie flinch and a sharp pain in their left shoulder. They dropped the mayor's assistant and turned to the dealer, who had crawled his way over to his gun and made a desperate attempt at a shot. It was just going to be one of those nights. They stalked over, ignoring the other three panicked shots that only paused them for a fraction of a second, then they snatched the gun away and used the butt of it to knock the man unconscious. By that point, the mayor's assistant was already slamming the door shut on his fancy car and was hastily reversing away from the scene. 

The only one left that was conscious was the body guard. He looked young and tired. This was probably his first time getting shot and from the lack of color on his face and the cold sweat beading his forehead, he wasn't enjoying it. "Seems your boss left you behind. Might want to look into a different employer, if not a different career. After you get out of jail." 

The shots were bound to draw police attention. With little regard for the man's injury and hissing complaint, Agent Venom grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him closer to the unconscious dealer. The symbiote provided a bit of matter for a rope so they could tie the two criminals together. 

**_Ca-CLICK_ **

They squinted in the bright flash of light, straightening up and staring over at Eddie and the phone now turned in their direction. "What are you still doing here?"

Eddie's smile was hopeful. "Waiting for an interview. A personal word from San Francisco's local hero. Everyone wants to know about Agent Venom. And I think I'm the perfect reporter to break the silence first." 

"No. Delete the pictures." 

The smile pursed. "Like I said, they send straight to my editor." 

"They don't. You were lying." Stepping around the two criminals, they approached Eddie with a hand out expectantly. The idea of going more public than the brief glimpses, pictures, and stories surrounding them made Flash uncomfortable, which the symbiote fully understood. But anything that had to do with Eddie had a weird way of filling it with humor and fondness for the human. This was far from their first time dealing with Eddie. Actually, it happened often. The man was constantly getting into places he didn't belong, putting himself in danger for the next big scoop. He took investigative journalism to a new extreme. How the man had managed to survive without Agent Venom stepping in to pull his ass out of danger, they didn't now. 

Something about him had struck the symbiote's interest, though. It  _liked_  Eddie. Which was rare. First it had been intrigued and curious, then over time that turned into a sort of fond warmth that bloomed through them every time Eddie showed up on the scene. 

**He's stupid. Like you.**

Thanks, buddy. Love you too.

"Give me the phone. This doesn't get posted in any of your articles, Brock."

Eddie pulled his phone back and stepped away, holding it above his head as if that would keep Agent Venom from reaching it. "Oh c'mon--!"

"No." 

Huffing, Eddie lowered the phone. "Fine, fine. I'll delete them. Watch, I'm deleting them." He turned the screen to show as he got rid of them, deleting them from the phone storage, cloud storage, and then emptying the delete file entirely. 

Agent Venom gave a satisfied nod before grabbing Eddie's shoulders and turning him around. "Great, now go home. And try not to get yourself in any more trouble on the way." 

**Sirens. Time to go.**

Yeah. 

Eddie managed to get two steps and by the time he looked back over his shoulder, Agent Venom was gone. Up the nearest warehouse wall and onto the roof, where he could watch to make sure none of the criminals escaped until the police managed to snag them. And to make sure Eddie actually left without getting himself shot somehow. 

They had a lead, at least. The mayor's assistant conducting a weapons deal? That was sure to be something. Corruption all the way at the level of the local government. They could keep an eye on both the mayor and the assistant, see what came up and where it led them. And the arm's dealer was going to be taken into custody, which meant less new guns appearing on the street. Altogether a productive night.

They were there to see the police load the two men into the back of cruisers. 

They were also there when one of the officers slipped off to make a phone call, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed. While it was probably just a personal call, they couldn't hear the details, so they kept the incident in mind but didn't think anything more of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Brock gets the scoop of a lifetime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I genuinely wasn't expecting to wake up and see that people had read this and actually enjoyed it?? Nice. This is why writing for rare pairs is great. I think I might actually have a solid plot in mind for this haha whoops.
> 
> Also I'm fictionplumis on Tumblr if anyone is interested there and on the off chance you want to donate a coffee, my Ko-Fi is pyroplumis.

Lisa Cho skipped all formalities as she flopped into her chair at the desk next to Eddie's, starting the day with an annoyed, "Jake Henderson was released from custody today." 

Eddie's head snapped up from the conspiracy article he had been browsing about Agent Venom, fixing her with a narrow-eyed look. "You're kidding. Did someone bail him out? Must have been a steep price, given how many semi-automatics he was carrying in the back of that van." 

Overeall, Eddie had been in the business longer than Cho, but that was just investigative journalism in general, both written and recorded. When it came to articles and reports, Cho had way more experience on her hands, even if Eddie counted the years he worked for the New York Globe. She had resources, rapport, and people on the inside everywhere. Luckily for Eddie, she had sort of taken him under her wing. Or maybe she was just a decent person who didn't mind giving him advice and sharing some sources from time to time. 

Three days ago, after the whole incident down at the pier, she had been the first one Eddie went to. He had been lying when he said he got clear pictures. If you squinted, you could just barely make out that there were people standing there, let alone one of them being Marcus fucking Morgan. Besides the hired muscle, there was nothing to link back to the mayor's assistant. No proof, no evidence, no story. Yet. 

"Apparently they didn't have enough evidence for reasonable suspicion and they had to let him go," Cho answered, examining her nails with a distinct air of disgust. "You know, because a van full of weapons with their serial numbers scratched off that are covered in his fingerprints isn't enough evidence for reasonable suspicion. Seems like someone pulled a few strings." 

"Morgan." Eddie slumped back in his seat with a frustrated sigh. 

"More than likely. Or someone higher," Cho agreed.

It was unlikely, but always one to be cautiously optimistic, he had to ask. "Your source wouldn't be willing to step forward, would they?" 

The look Cho sent him said it all. "Honey, if they were willing to step forward, you wouldn't be hearing about it until I published the article. I like you, and you were nice enough to trust me with the initial story, but I am not passing up a lead like that. Government corruption is a big deal in this political climate. People eat that shit up." 

Yeah, he didn't think it would be that easy. Eddie absently turned his chair side to side, clicking his pen as he thought about the situation. Something big was going on, and he planned on figuring out it. "Y'know, things were so much easier when I could just shove a camera in their face until they caved."

He had just meant to mutter it to himself, really, but he was surrounded by nosy people who couldn't help but add in their two cents and Cho didn't hesitate, her voice falsely casual. "Really? I figured not having a fiancee to worry about would make it a little easier." She ignored the way the statement made Eddie freeze, not even looking his way. "You don't have to worry about watching the time on an investigation so you don't miss a date. Granted, it does mean you're down a kickass source." She finally looked up, raising a brow at Eddie's expression. "Too soon?" 

Eddie held up his thumb and index finger held barely a centimeter apart, face pinched. "Just a bit, yeah." 

"Look, Eddie." She actually turned to him, leaning towards him and partially against her desk. "Anyone can ask probing questions in front of a camera until the person they're interviewing slips. One wrong inflection, one trip up, and the public will make their decision. But once the TV is turned off, it's out of sight, out of mind. They're only angry while they watch. It's the written word that gets to people, worms into their brain with colorful imagery and the right use of alliteration until those phrases are popping up on their mind every time they see something vaguely related. You have to pay attention in order to read an article, you're not just mindlessly absorbing information as background noise. It gives us a  chance to actually influence public opinion. And I've read your stuff. You were wasted in front of a camera. The network gave you a story, you dug up some information, and that was it. Now you're actually hitting the pavement. You're discovering stories instead of waiting for them to be handed to you. And Mary adores you, so as long as you're actually turning something in, she's going to let you write about whatever the hell you want instead of assigning you fluff pieces like Henry."

She was right, and Eddie knew it, but it didn't stop him from looking unconvinced. He had  _liked_  the flare that came with being on camera. The fact that people knew his name, knew his face, and not just disembodied words on paper. Her eyes flicked over to his computer screen. "How's that work on Agent Venom doing, by the way?" 

Subject change was not subtle but greatly appreciated. Eddie relaxed back into his seat and gestured absently to his screen. "Rough. The guy is a steel cage, Cho. I've run into him several times now and he gives me  _nothing_." 

She gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. "Keep at him, because that right there is your gold mine. If you can break a story on him, people won't be thinking of your old show when they hear your name anymore." 

That sure sounded like the perfect life if he could manage to pull it off. 

 

* * *

 

After the news of Jake Henderson getting off the hook, Eddie decided that drinks were in order. Cho and a few others from the office joined him for awhile but eventually conversation died off and everyone went their separate ways, leaving Eddie sitting at the bar by himself. He had gone easy, too busy talking to drink more than a beer and too lost in thought to have anymore than a couple once everyone was gone. Agent Venom was his gold mine, sure, but he couldn't rely on that. He still needed to get work done and show Mary he was making progress towards something. Finding the link between Marcus Morgan and the weapons  dealer was the way to go. 

Besides, it seemed like Agent Venom was also making that his case, so maybe it would kill two birds with one stone. 

Last call came at close to 1AM and Eddie made his way home with the full intention of crashing in bed and coming up with a solid plan to deal with Morgan in the morning. Schedule an interview with the guy, maybe. Under a name that wasn't his own, since there was a good chance the fucker had looked him up. Or maybe not. It had been dark out there, maybe--

  
For once in his several beers life, he didn't fumble with his keys. That was probably the only reason he got the door open just in time to hear the one to his bedroom click shut. He froze, quickly scanning the room. The window was open, he never opened the window. Shockingly, nothing was missing, not even the crumpled money he had sitting on his counter top. He slowly sat down his laptop back and shut the door behind him before going for his phone, but with several beers in him he couldn't help opening his mouth as he dialed 9-1-1. 

"There's no window in the bedroom, dumbass, good luck getting out. You just stay in there until the police show up." 

There was no answer, not until the automated service was asking him if he needed law enforcement, fire department, or emergency services. That was when the bedroom door slowly opened and a familiar voice called out a simple, "Wait. I'm coming out." 

Eddie would know that voice anywhere, not just because he was one of the rare few that heard it often enough, but Agent Venom had a very distinct tone. Deep, something that held a hint of a rumble but in a way that was strangely smooth. Like it was something inhuman that was trying to sound human. The alarm left Eddie almost instantly, replaced with the kind of exasperation that people used to cover up how much they nearly had the shit scared out of them. He hung up as Agent Venom himself stepped out of the room, his palms up. Probably not surrender, probably to show that his guns were still holstered at his hip. As if that was the threat, as if he needed them, as if the weird tentacle leaving his shoulder and floating towards the window to slide it shut wasn't something that could also kill a man just as easily as a firearm. 

Not that Eddie was scared of him. Nope, it was his turn to lock the vigilante with a deadpan look and ask, "Really, man?" 

There was no answer. 

Agent Venom was freaky. That was putting it mildly, really. He was down right pants-shittingly terrifying, actually. Eddie hardly ever got the chance to analyze him in good lighting while he was standing still, but that didn't ease the feeling of being on edge around the guy. He had all the shape of a human with none of the readable features. Sure, there was tone and infliction in his voice no matter how deadpan he tried to sound, but it was muted and something about it never quite rang  _human_  to Eddie and there was never any movement behind his mask when he talked. His body language was stiff but it did give clues to what he thinking, just not much and not reliably. Same with his eyes, which narrowed or adjusted depending on... Mood, maybe? Hard to tell. But unlike videos of Spider-Man, the blank, white eyes didn't look like they had any mechanical parts to give them that effect. It looked too organic in that regard, but the whole not blinking thing made it seem incredibly unnatural and like someone wearing dark sunglass, it was impossible to tell where Agent Venom was actually looking.

Whatever his reason for his silences, it always came across as an intimidation tactic. 

As per usual, Eddie was the first one to look away, uncomfortable by the intensity of it and mildly annoyed that someone was making him uncomfortable in his own damn apartment. You know what, no. Not happening. He wasn't going to allow that. He huffed and started towards the kitchen, not even sparing the man another glance and instead giving him a firm, "Stop that. You don't get to do that." 

"Stop... What?"

God forbid Eddie needed to write another resume, he was definitely putting on it that he made Agent Venom sound uncertain of something. That was a crowning achievement. "The creepy, silent staring thing. This is my apartment, you don't get to stand there and make me feel like I should leave." He grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned back to his unexpected guest, who had lowered his hands to his side and was standing by his bedroom door with that flat, unreadable expression, looking very awkward and out of place in the otherwise normal apartment. 

Awkward. It was such a weird thing to attribute to someone like Agent Venom, but his, "Sorry, sometimes I forget how unsettling that can be," was somewhat stilted and was paired with an absent gesture as if he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. That wasn't Eddie's imagination. Agent Venom felt awkward, and damn well he should after being caught breaking into someone's house, but at the same time Eddie almost felt  _bad_ for the guy. 

"Want a beer?" 

That time there was only a slight pause. "I know a tactic to get me to take off my mask when I see it, Brock. I'll pass, thanks." 

A joke. Maybe. The pauses were starting to seem less like an intimidation tactic and more like someone who was desperately trying to think of a good response. God this was weird. Shrugging, Eddie pulled out a kitchen chair and flopped down, twisting his lid off and taking a gulp of the much needed alcohol by this point. "Ya caught me. What can I do for you, Agent Venom? Or were you just popping in to snoop through my underwear drawer?" 

Eddie smiled innocently when those white eyes narrowed and there was another one of Agent Venom's patented silences. 

"The mayor's assistant. What do you know about him?" 

The smile faded as Eddie rose his brows. So they were talking shop, then. Made sense. Agent Venom had only been a presence in San Francisco for about six months now and he tended to keep to himself. There was nothing about the guy operating anywhere else, so more than likely he had started the whole vigilante thing literally six months ago. No sources, not much experience, facing a case that was a little more complicated than just gang activity. 

Eddie was almost flattered that he was the go-to. Did that mean they were building rapport? 

"Marcus Morgan," he answered, using his foot to push out the kitchen chair next to him and gesturing for Agent Venom to sit down. He did, and boy was that suddenly more awkward than him just standing there like the typical, edgy vigilante that was ready to knock heads for information. No, he was leaning forward over his knees, actually  _paying attention_. Eddie's life had gotten weird. He wished he had something stronger than beer. "If you think I have any idea why he was buying weapons, I don't, sorry to say." 

If that surprised Agent Venom, he didn't show it. "With what you do know, do you think he's acting on his own or is it more likely that he's conducting business on the mayor's behalf?"

Right, right. This wasn't someone looking to publish a story or make an arrest, this was a vigilante. Instinct trumped evidence. Eddie leaned back in his seat and sat his beer down so he could fold his hands in his lap. "I voted for Francis because everything I heard about Newman sounded like a load of shit. When Newman took office, I went digging. That's my job. Morgan was his campaign manager during the elections, was promoted to assistant afterwards, but they go way back. Everything is circumstantial though. Dropped charges for drugs in high school and college. I'm talking heroin and crack, here. Then accusations of fraud and tax evasion that never seemed to get investigated. All the way up to arson. Newman's house burned down while he was on vacation. His wife was inside, and they conveniently got a very nice life insurance plan a few weeks before. A neighbor said they saw Morgan pulling a gas can out of his car, but the judge decided the testimony was inadmissible for whatever reason. Newman's dad is the CEO of some tech company that's been accused of stealing ideas from people on the internet, so I don't have any doubts that most of those things were covered up because someone's daddy lined a few pockets. There's always the chance Morgan is working alone but it wouldn't surprise me if Newman is pulling strings."

There was that squinty look and Eddie hoped it was more thoughtful than suspicious this time. 

"How come you didn't write about any of this?" 

Time for him to take another long swig of his beer. "Not for lack of trying," he muttered. "Trust me, I wanted to. At the time I was doing the Brock Report. Pitched the whole thing to the network head, had everything lined out for him on why this guy was bad news. I wanted to interview him, press some of the old charges, maybe get him to own up to daddy dearest helping him out, but there wasn't enough solid evidence to warrant it. Not when he was cleared or the charges were dropped. Nothing hinted at anyone being paid off, no one was stepping forward, it was all just a theory of mine. A logical one, in my opinion, but... Y'know,  _in my opinion_."

After a thoughtful silence, Agent Venom nodded and straightened up, his hand coming to rest on the table, his fingertips silently tapping the surface. Making no sound. The guy was like a ghost. Definitely not human. 

"Sounds frustrating," he finally said. "I get it, though. Needing the evidence. People need to know they can trust news sources. Are there any connections between those two and the SFPD?"

That was a very specific question. Eddie frowned and thought through what he knew of them before shaking his head. "Not that I know of. Why, do you think there might be?" Why else would he ask? 

Living up to his status as a cagey one, Agent Venom just gave a vague shrug. "Not sure yet." 

So that's how it was. Eddie giving all the information and getting next to nothing. Either Newman was forcing law enforcement's hand in the matter, or cops were in his pocket, it wasn't that hard to of a connection to make. 

His phone buzzed with an email and he checked to make sure it wasn't anything important. Spam, of course, who the hell would email him important information at damn near two in the morning? Here he was with a vigilante in his house and even  _that_  wasn't giving him anything important. Cho's words just kept echoing in his head.  _"If you can break a story on him, people won't be thinking of your old show when they hear your name anymore."_ Easy in theory, and the fact that Agent Venom was coming to him was encouraging, sure, but he still wasn't getting anything. 

Maybe if he... 

Another few seconds on his phone and he glanced up to see Agent Venom's eyes trained back on him. Alright, this was happening. Locking his phone, he sat it down on the table, then pulled out his notebook and recorder, making a point of shoving it out of reach. A gesture implying that the rest of their conversation was off-record. Agent Venom watched with a questioning tilt to his head.

"Alright, I have to ask, because it's driving me crazy, but what _are_  you?" Eddie might have been imaging it, but the slight curve under Agent Venom's eyes almost looked like mild amusement. "I'm serious. I'm pretty sure you're not human. That... Outfit? I don't think it's a suit. You joked about the beer being a ploy to get your mask off, but I'm not sure that's a mask, I think that's just your face. If it was a mask, there would be movement under it when you spoke. There would be a bump somewhere for your nose. Your eyes don't look like complex, mechanical lenses. And if it is an outfit, I want to know how you managed to get fabric to stretch into those weird tentacles that, from what I can tell, can literally come from anywhere on your body. So what  _are_  you?" 

He wasn't imaging it. That was amusement. "I guess there's a reason you're a reporter. Or journalist. Is there a difference?" 

Eddie was pretty sure Agent Venom was just trying to distract him from the topic but it sounded like a genuine question all the same. "Technically both. A reporter is a general term for anyone involved in the process of getting information out to the public, a journalist is specifically someone who's part of gathering, organizing, and dictating how the information is presented. Every journalist is a reporter, not every reporter is a journalist, basically. And I'm a good one, so you're not going to get out of my question that easily." 

If it wasn't for the slight upturn of his eyes, Eddie might have felt like the silent staring was back to being an intimidation tactic. The absent movement of his index finger against the table made it more likely that he was just thinking of how to answer the question if he intended on answering it at all. 

They seemed to be getting somewhere, though, so Eddie decided to be patient. For once in his life, he seemed to make a good choice. After a long, silent few seconds, Agent Venom turned to the small pile Eddie had put on the table. "You can't publish anything without evidence to back it up?"

"That's right." 

Agent Venom gave a slight nod and those eyes were back on Eddie. They didn't look any more decisive than they did before, but there was the illusion that they did. "Alright then. You're right, this isn't a suit. It's a fully sentient and conscious being of its own. It's considered a symbiote and it relies on bonding to a host in order to survive in our atmosphere. So... The conspiracy forums claiming I'm an alien are technically half right, but there is a human in here too. This is the form we both feel more comfortable operating as one but if you passed by the human on the street, you would never suspect that they're secretly harboring an alien and they're acting as Agent Venom." 

Out of all the things Eddie expected to hear, an parasitic alien giving someone a cool new look and super powers was  _not_  one of them and it was his turn to lean forward over his knees, eyes wide as he took in the form of the person before him with renewed appreciation. An alien. An actual alien. That was living in someone. Someone who was willing letting the alien live in them, even more amazingly. "Okay. Okay, cool. An alien. Like E.T. only... More badass, nice. How did you come across this alien?" 

He didn't even care how amused Agent Venom looked as he leaned back and crossed his arms, body language bordering on smug, this was just too interesting. 

"Same way most people do, I guess. Shady military program." Ah, another potential story, then. The government trying to weaponize aliens? He would have to-- "Which has already been shut down, documents burned, and everyone involved scattered into the wind, so don't go getting any ideas, Brock. Some things aren't worth your time anymore." 

Eddie knew he was pouting but in his defense, it was a little upsetting to be  _that_  transparent when sitting across from someone who would absolutely kill it at a Poker tournament. He waved off the idea with a roll of his eyes. "Don't investigate the shady military program, got it. I might actually take your advice on this for once. Might be a little over my head, I'll admit. So... Am I talking more to the human or to the alien right now?" 

The little upturn was back in Agent Venom's eyes. "Both. One can override the other's wishes, but for the most part we don't have any reason to do that. It's a hard concept to explain in human terms and even that part of us doesn't understand it so much as just goes along with it. It's like... Being Drift Compatible, I guess? So in sync you just know what you both want to do or say without discussing it beforehand. But there's two distinct beings here. The human has a life outside of this. A job, coworkers, skills and interests and struggles just like everyone else. The alien has its own interests and desires." 

" _It?_ " Eddie repeated, raising his brows. 

It was a very human thing when Agent Venom sighed and slumped back with a wave of his hand. "Trying to explain human gender to an alien with very little concept of self outside of a host is frustrating for everyone involved. For the sake of not arguing stupid, pointless things, it decided it doesn't care how it's referred to."

"What about a name?" 

Agent Venom shook his head. "It decided it didn't need one. Agent Venom is  _us_ , together, and the human has a name, but it--" He paused, and Eddie tilted his head, waiting for whatever was going on internally. Whatever it was, it had the vigilante chuckling softly. For someone so imposing, it was a soft, warm sound that came with a pleased curve to his eyes. "Sorry, it's decided that you can call it Venom. Since it's half of Agent Venom and the human is clearly the Agent half." 

Eddie wasn't sure why, but there was something stupidly flattering about an alien picking out a name for itself just because he asked when it had previously decided it didn't need one. He couldn't help the slightly awed smile at that. "Venom, huh? Agent and Venom, makes sense." Thinking about that had him hesitating before moving on to his next question, one that was less to learn about the two and more for his own, personal curiosity. "Why did you two decide to tell me? You're always so private so why me? Why now?" 

Agent Venom seemed to take a breath first and something in their form almost  _rippled_ , like the form on an old TV would when a line of static ran through it. Like what was in front of him wasn't quite solid despite how real it looked. Besides that, there was no other change, not in tone or body language. It was something so quick that Eddie could have imagined it, or maybe it had meant nothing, or maybe it was something more significant than he realized. It was impossible to tell.

"To be honest, Eddie, we don't think you're a bad guy, but there are some matters we're not completely in agreement on. The human side is a little more cautious. That's where we're vulnerable. There's a life there that can easily be ruined if the wrong information is given out, and your job relies on airing people's dirty laundry. A secret identity is like toothpaste, once it's out, good luck getting it back in. The symbiote... It has a soft spot for you. Something about your stupid recklessness reminding it of its host. It's fond of people who get in over their heads for the right reasons. It wants to trust you. We'll see how it goes."

That was a lot. 

That was way more than Eddie expected, way more than he knew what to do with. He wasn't even sure if he should be insulted that the alien thought he was stupid and in over his head, or be flattered that it liked him and thought he was doing the right thing. He didn't get a chance to figure it out before Agent Venom was standing and Eddie instinctively followed suit. 

"Sorry, it's late, I should get going. Thanks for your help, the information was useful." 

"Uh, yeah. Right. No problem, man." Eddie awkwardly wiped his hands on his jeans and gestured to the door. "And thank you for the... Trust. I guess. Feel free to use the actual exit if you want. And maybe knock next time? Or drop me a text, whatever." 

Later, he would need to really analyze why he enjoyed seeing that faint curve of amusement on the otherwise expressionless face, but later. When he wasn't mildly buzzed. "I don't have a business phone and it's probably not the best idea to give a reporter my private cell number. It's also easier to leave through the window, but we appreciate the offer. Have a good night, Eddie."

Not only did they close the window behind them, but a little wiggly tentacle even slid between the two panes to lock it before the figure disappeared in the darkness and Eddie flopped back into his kitchen chair, stunned and once again questioning the validity of his life. 

But hey, he had gotten what he wanted. 

He snagged his phone to unlock it, making sure that it was still recording. He played it back, listening to the entire conversation over again in crisp clarity. There was no mistaking Agent Venom's voice. He could talk to Mary about publishing this with a link to their website to listen to the whole clip if he wanted to. Maybe with a few minor adjustments, cut out some of the more private things that would make him look like an asshole for going public with the information. Maybe just stick to the alien parts? 

Yeah, this would work. Cho was right. Agent Venom was a hotly debated topic and he had insider information that would get his name known for way more than the Eddie Brock Report and the fucking fiasco that had turned out to be. He could finally move past it. Forget it ever happened. 

Forget the betrayed look on Anne's face when she realized he used her. 

Well. At least he wouldn't have to deal with that from Agent Venom. No looks from him, betrayed or otherwise. 

Except... 

There was a person in there. A human, with a life. One that could look betrayed as they read the article and even if Eddie wouldn't be seeing it, the idea of it looking anything like Annie's... 

No, that wasn't right. They wouldn't look betrayed. Agent Venom admitted that the human part was more cautious, they probably expected this to get published. The alien was the one that wanted to trust him, the alien would feel betrayed, and the human would be saying,  _"I told you so,"_ which was somehow worse. 

Eddie wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at the recording, replaying bits and pieces and remembering the subtle but very human expressions that came with the words, but he sat there for a long while before finally hitting delete on the recording. If he kept it, even for himself, it was a temptation he would eventually cave to. He knew himself too well for that shit. He couldn't-- He  _wouldn't_  do that to someone again. His work wasn't built at the expense of innocent people, not when he could build rapport with Agent Venom and maybe, just maybe, do this the right way. 

Probably not, but hey. A man could hope. At the very least this wouldn't be another tick on his conscious and the relief was instant the second all traces of the recording were gone from his phone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's hard to figure out if a reporter is talking to you because they KNOW something or if they're talking to you because they want to ask you out on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally you all are so sweet and I'm actually enjoying writing again. I forgot what it felt like to go on a writing binge. God bless this fandom. 
> 
> Also I have an actual, long-term plot for this. This is going to be a decently long fic and you all better buckle up because you're in for a rough ride, emotionally speaking. I have the habit of getting a little, uh... Up close and personal with character flaws. That's a good way of putting it. Sure.
> 
> It might be good to keep in mind that I don't know anything about sports. I've never been to a single sporting game, no one in my family watches sports of any kind, and none of my friends are into it so I've barely ever heard someone reference sports. Every football term mentioned is one that I've had to google and even then I'm still not entirely sure I'm using it correctly or if a player/fan would use some other slang for it. Good luck.

No matter how shocking, strange, or emotionally charged a situation was, things had a way of taking on a muted, dreamlike quality the next day. Logically Eddie knew that having Agent Venom break into his house and tell him about parasitic aliens was a very strange thing, one of those things that should really seem like a life-altering event, but here he was waking up at a quarter past three in the afternoon and going about his daily routine as if it never happened. As if he was just supposed to live his life like normal even though there was someone out there in the streets of San Francisco that was sharing a body with an  _alien_. 

Brushing his teeth, he wondered what that would even  _be_  like. Was the alien always there? Watching? Could it talk? Yeah, probably, Agent Venom seemed to imply it could talk. Did it comment on things throughout the day? Was the human part of Agent Venom ever doing a very human but embarrassing thing like picking their nose only to have an alien comment on it? 

In the shower, he tried to imagine having someone there with him but not in a sexy way. Just someone there. A friend or whatever. Hanging out with him in the shower. Causal-like. 

It was the first morning shower in awhile that didn't include him jacking off. 

Which made him wonder about that, too. And bathroom breaks. Peeing was probably awkward but what about bad Taco Bell? What sort of sentient creature would want to be connected and present with a human after bad Taco Bell? What sort of human wouldn't want to immediately disappear into the void of death after subjecting an alien creature to bad Taco Bell shits?

After shrugging on his leather jacket and snagging his keys before heading out, Eddie decided on several things. One, it would probably be easier to tell who Agent Venom was than the vigilante had made it out to be last night. Having an alien with you 24/7 was bound to make someone a little off and Eddie liked to think he was an observant guy. If he ever did cross paths with Agent Venom's human host, it probably wouldn't take him too long to figure out. Body type and behavior were very telling. Two, anyone who shared a body with an alien and wasn't driven crazy within a week was probably very confident, shameless, and open about both their good qualities and their bad. Three, that person was probably ten times stronger on an emotional level than Eddie would ever be, because as much as he despised being alone now that Anne was gone, he didn't think he could handle anyone seeing him at his worst, and there were so many private moments where he was justifiably a piece of shit.

On a slightly related note, if Eddie had a passenger in his body last night, maybe that entity would have proud of him for resisting temptation despite how badly he wanted to immediately write up an article on Agent Venom. Maybe there was something to this whole not-screwing-people-over thing because he kind of felt great about himself. 

It was a milestone. Proof that he was becoming a better person. 

Psychologically speaking, rewarding good behavior was more effective than punishing the bad, so he reasoned he deserved a treat before getting down to work. It was the middle of the day but his continued existence centered around coffee and his favorite place would be empty on a weekday after a lunch rush. He could grab a coffee, chat with the barista that worked on Wednesday afternoons, and sit down to plan his attack on Marcus Morgan. Even if there was someone walking around the streets with an alien inhabiting their body, he still had a life to live, articles to write, and a corrupt politician to bring to justice. It was looking to be a good day for him. 

Unfortunately, he was the  _only_  one having a good day. 

The guy literally suck in the door of the cafe was certainly not having a fun time. Eddie only paused long enough to see what the hell was going on. Somehow he had gotten the front wheel of his wheelchair stuck against a lip on door frame and the actual door, which Eddie knew was one of those stupidly heavy ones that even an able-bodied person like him had trouble with, must have closed on him and pinned off his back wheel. He didn't have enough hands to hold the door open and turn his chair the right way to get the front wheel free. From the defeated slump of his shoulders and the way he rubbed the bridge of his nose, he had probably been struggling long enough to be thoroughly frustrated and  _no one_  seemed to be trying to help. 

What the hell was wrong with people? 

Eddie jogged the couple of steps to took to get to the door with a reassuring smile and a helpful, "Hey, lemme get that for you, man. The door here is a pain." He knew the barista that worked Wednesday afternoons would have dropped everything to help the guy but as he pulled the door open and stepped back so the man could readjust his position, he noticed that she was a little busy with an entitled soccer mom that was throwing a fit. They were the only ones in the place, no other employees in sight, just this girl getting yelled at by someone who probably had a daughter named Brytney or Brayten that they were late picking up from school. "...Jesus." And instead of moving, the guy in the wheelchair was staring at him like he never expected anyone to help him ever, with anything. 

For once, Eddie found himself almost hoping that the guy just recognized him from the Brock Report and that's what the shocked staring was about, because the alternative would have sucked. 

"You good?" 

Whatever it was, that seemed to snap him out of it and he quickly looked away with a distracted, "Uh, yeah, sorry," as he readjusted himself and pushed into the cafe.

Just in time for Mrs. Brayten's Mom to announce that she didn't need this in her life and stalk out the door while Eddie was still holding it open. He stared after her in awe of her sheer disregard for other people before following his new friend inside with a quiet, "Yeesh, someone is passionate about coffee." 

"Yeah, well, fuck her too!" On the plus side, the barista was more rightfully angry than distressed, but that seemed to be Andi's typical thing. 

She was great. Hands down Eddie's favorite barista, which made this place Eddie's favorite indie coffee shop. Starbucks was good but they probably would have shredded Andi's application the second they saw the piercings and purple highlights. Here, the owners fully supported personal expression. All the barista's got to decorate their own aprons with their names instead of wearing tags and Andi's was covered in fake metal spikes and reminded him of the cover on a death metal CD. Despite the prickly appearance, she was sweet. Even after that fiasco, she took one look at Eddie and the guy in the wheelchair and the anger seemed to drain out of her in a sigh. 

"Your usuals?" 

It was addressed to both of them. Eddie shot the other guy a questioning look only to find him staring back with the same puzzled expression. Alright. So they were both usual customers who had managed to never stop by the place at the same time. Or at least never noticed each other. 

Eddie smiled. The guy in the wheelchair frowned. 

It was strangely adorable. 

Eddie's smile didn't falter as he glanced back at Andi. "Yeah, my usual, thanks." 

The adorable guy in the wheelchair finally looked away and pushed towards the counter with a nod, seeming like he was doing his best to ignore Eddie. "Add on a double chocolate mocha, too. How come you were dealing with that instead of Lewis?" 

Definitely a regular if he knew the manager by name. Andi launched into a rant while she worked and while Eddie was paying attention, he also used the distraction to eye up the other guy while he listened. Just casually, that was his job after all. The guy was clearly a combat veteran who had lost his legs, an observation backed by more than just how he carried himself in general. Ex-military personnel tended to have a specific set to their shoulders even if they were slumping but it wasn't always reliable. The real giveaway was the USAA card he had out to pay with. He had probably been out of the service for awhile, his hair was long enough to brush the sides of his jaw and that sure wasn't regulation. Soft-looking, too. Blond, maybe strawberry blond, technically? Dark circles that could probably use the espresso. It was hard to tell what his job was, he was just wearing a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and doing wonderful things to accent the strength in his forearms. 

The most attractive thing was definitely the genuinely sympathetic smile he was directing at Andi, though. Eddie was a sucker for rough people who had a soft side. 

Actually, now that he was noticing, there was an easy familiarity between the two that implied the guy was more than just a frequent customer. Andi didn't bother looking at him to take his card and even when she ranted to Eddie about minor annoyances, it was still obvious that she paid attention to her wording like she would with any customer. Except this guy, apparently. 

"He's great, don't get me wrong, but how the fuck can you own a coffee shop and not have enough sense to save your vacation for when your head manager isn't dying of the flu and you just hired a new girl who isn't showing up for shifts?" She moved automatically to round the counter with the guy's chocolate croissant and mocha so she could set them on the front table that only had one chair, the man following right behind her, looking fondly amused. Andi leaned one hand against the table, still going at it. "I've been here since eight this morning and I'm exhausted all because the owner of this place doesn't know common sense. That lady is lucky I didn't dump her frappe over her head." There was a pause and she pulled back to cross her arms over her chest and lock the guy with a narrowed, suspicious gaze as he sipped his drink. "You look exhausted, Coach. Please don't tell me you're substituting sleep with that mocha."

Coach?

"How come this is the first time I'm meeting your attractive friend?"

Eddie hadn't been planning on speaking up. He had been perfectly content to sit on the sidelines while Andi ranted to whoever this guy was, but the words came out before he could stop them and the effect was instantaneous. The guy promptly choked on his mocha, turning a pretty shade of pink as he spluttered and tried to avoid swallowing the wrong way. Half a second later, Andi was nearly doubled over in laughter and clutching his shoulder. "Eddie, Jesus! Really? Him?" 

The guy was still pink when he shot her an affronted look at the betrayal. "Hey!"  

Eddie could only smile innocently and shrug. "You guys seem close, just casually wondering how this is the first time we've crossed paths here." 

That seemed to make Andi pause. She glanced at the man and then offered a shrug of her own, crossing her arms. "Yeah, I guess we're close. He was my PE coach the last couple months of my senior year. Probably the only reason I graduated instead of failing gym class." 

"It would have been stupid to fail you just because you refused to dress out," the guy muttered into the rim of his mug, almost defensively. He chanced a glance up at Eddie's curious look and lowered his drink with a sigh. "The previous coach had left on short notice and didn't leave a syllabus. There was also a minimum requirement for bookwork that he hadn't bothered with so I had to cram all that into the last two months of the semester. It was a convenient coincidence that I can't really take credit for."

"Sure," Eddie answered easily, his tone making it clear he didn't buy that for a second. 

Andi grinned at him and patted the guy on the shoulder, ignoring his frown. "He seems sweet and modest, but he's a pain in the ass. He's a complete workaholic who runs on the bare minimum of sleep. He claims he stays up grading papers but I know for a fact he doesn't assign that many." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper directed at Eddie, one that the guy in question could definitely still hear as she added, "Personally, I think he goes out trying to be like Spider-Man." 

Eddie grinned widely as the man pursed his lips and shot Andi a dry look that seemed to only be a fraction of what he was truly capable of. "Uh huh, you caught me. I go out swinging from building to building every night with my chair strapped to my back. It gives me the element of surprise when the bad guys are too busy laughing at me to take me seriously as a threat." She shot her old coach a smug look that quickly disappeared when he added, "Wasn't your friend there ordering something too?"

"Tch. Yeah, yeah. You said you wanted your usual, Brock?" Eddie nodded and went through the motions of paying for his coffee, still very much curious about the mildly grumpy but cute blond. Any lingering thoughts regarding work were brushed to the side the moment Andi handed him the drink with a sly, "He's single, by the way."

"Oh, yeah?" He raised his brows, turning back to the man who appeared to be studiously ignoring him in favor of the chocolate croissant. 

All joking aside, Eddie's last attempt at flirting with a stranger was back in college, before he met Anne. He didn't even flirt with her, not until after he had gotten to know her sense of humor on their first date, a date they only decided was a date after they realized they had spent five hours sitting in Starbucks just chatting aimlessly and laughing with each other. It only happened because she found him crying in the library during finals week, running on three hours of sleep in as many days, and had taken pity on his poor ass. She had looked like an angel offering him a kind, understanding smile. " _Taking a break for a cup of coffee when I get overwhelmed always helps me. How about we go grab one?"_  Even when she moved across the country for law school, they always seemed to make it work. 

He was still stuck on her, admittedly. Still holding out hope that maybe she would understand why he did what he did, maybe she would forgive him, maybe she would see that he hadn't meant to hurt her, maybe maybe maybe. 

Maybe it wasn't getting any easier because he wasn't even bothering to move on. 

Before he could convince himself out of it, Eddie headed back to the guy's table and offered his hand with a polite smile. "Eddie Brock. Do you mind if I sit with you?" 

Again, there was that moment of confused surprise on the man's face, this time accompanied by a few dots of powdered sugar at the corner of his lips that was utterly adorable until he was wiping it away with a napkin and reaching out for Eddie's hand. Hesitantly, and with that surprise tightening more into wariness. 

"Flash Thompson. Be my guest, just don't expect much in the way of conversation. It's been a rough day."

Permission granted, Eddie pulled out the seat across from the guy and sat down, raising a questioning brow at the name. "Flash?" 

"Ah, an old high school nickname," he answered with an absent wave of his hand. "It just kind of stuck." 

High school, yeah. Rough years. God forbid you do something embarrassing once with a girl and suddenly it's all over the school, sometimes inescapable right through adulthood if you get used to it enough. Eddie winced on his behalf. "Right, yeah. Kids can be harsh." 

For a half a second, Flash's brows furrowed in confusion until he realized what Eddie was implying and hastily shook his head in alarm. "No no, god. It's not what you're thinking. I was the varsity team's quarterback all four years. My specialty was taking the ball and just gunning for the end zone after a play failed. I ran fast, so... Flash." His brows furrowed further when Eddie response was a surprised chuckle. "The irony isn't lost on me either, but if I had my prosthetics on, you would have a hard time keeping up." 

Still grinning, Eddie shook his head. "That wasn't it, really. It's just you and I had  _very_  different high school experiences." Maybe he was getting a little too much enjoyment out of Flash's borderline suspicious look flickering with embarrassment before he hid it behind the rim of his mocha. Not that Eddie could blame him for being a little on edge. He could only imagine how many assholes the guy had to deal with on a day to day basis on top of everything else. "Unless high schools in New York are different from the ones here." 

And the suspicious look was back, whoops. "New York?"

It was Eddie's turn to look sheepish. "Your accent. I went to college around Queens and spent my first few years working there."

"Uh huh. That's pretty observant of you." 

"Yeah, uh. I'm a reporter. Figured the name would've tipped you off..." He trailed off uncertainly, watching Flash frown and slowly shake his head as if he was trying to recall the name but was coming up with nothing. That was pretty rare. Even if people didn't recognize his face right away, the name usually sparked some recognition. It seemed like every few months it would resurface somehow. He would write something that would gain a bit of traction, enough to have someone dragging his past into the mix, for leaked clips of his interview with Carlton Drake to start getting hits on YouTube again and for pictures to be thrown up on the news. A looming shadow of his mistake making sure he could never work in front of a camera in San Francisco again. 

Andi spoke up from behind the counter, apparently keeping an eye on the conversation while she wiped down equipment. "Doesn't surprise me, I'd say Coach only knows what's happening a good fifteen percent of the time." 

"Oh come on, Andi." 

"Fine, twenty. Sometimes. But you hardly ever seem to keep up on recent news. Brock used to be pretty recognizable through the city. He had his own segment on MNBN and everything." 

Bless her, that was all she mentioned about it. Flash just shook his head again with a helpless shrug. "Sorry, as much as I hate to admit it, she's right. I don't know anything about local celebrities. All I know is that it sounds like your job is to harass people for a living." 

Eddie might have taken that the wrong way if it wasn't for the slightest hint of a smile softening Flash's features . Maybe he was getting somewhere with the guy. Eddie shot him a grin and a wink. "Only the ones that deserve it, I promise." 

"Mhm. Any reason why you think I deserve it right now?" 

Flash has the airs of someone fishing for specific information while trying to seem casual. He sucked at it. Eddie pretended to be oblivious as he clutched his chest and leaned back in mock hurt. "Me? Harassing you? I haven't even gotten around to asking for a date yet. But... Seriously, if I'm bugging you, you can tell me to back off. No hard feelings. You did say you had a rough day and I'm not here to add to it." 

Part of it was him being serious, but Eddie had the feeling the guy wasn't trying to subtly say he was bothered, Eddie just wasn't sure what he was looking for and this was the quickest way of finding out. His instincts were on point. The words had Flash faltering, his thumb brushing the edge of his mug as his gaze flickered away from Eddie. Then he sighed and slowly shook his head with an actual smile, small though it was. And bordering on self-deprecating. 

"No, sorry, you're not bugging me. I just found out that a few PTA moms have concerns with the capabilities of the school coaches. They don't think some of us are  _qualified_  enough to teach on our own and they're pushing for more  _experienced_  coaches to oversee classes." Eddie pursed his lips, easily reading between the lines. "And then the door." Flash gestured tiredly to the entrance before letting his hand fall back around his mug. "Doesn't help that I didn't sleep well last night. None of it is an excuse to take my frustrations out on you, though." 

From the sounds of it, the day had been designed to make Flash question the motives of any stranger looking his way and the information he had been fishing for was suddenly a lot clearer. Eddie waved off the apology with an easy smile, though it was appreciated. "No worries, we all have days like that. And in your defense, my flirting skills are pretty rusty."

"Wait." Flash blinked. "You're seriously trying to flirt with me?" 

Alright. Very rusty, then. "Trying being the key word, I guess. Yes. I am. I was serious when I called you attractive, the rest kind of sealed the deal. I tend to judge people by how they treat the homeless, people in the service industry, and anyone younger than them. It's been a good reception on two out of the three so far." 

"Oh, one time he sat with a homeless vet for forty minutes outside the shop after buying him a coffee. You said you guys were talking about the differences between the Marine Corp and Army, right Coach?" Andi grinned deviously from over the counter. 

The poor guy looked genuinely dumbfounded as Eddie shot him a smug smirk and ticked off a third finger on his hand. "Well look at that, I think we found a winner. Are you free on Sunday? We can grab lunch. I know a great sushi place." 

"Uh... Yeah, I'm free." 

He actually felt a thrill at the answer, even if it sounded a bit uncertain. If Flash was willing, Eddie had every intention of trying to win him over. So far the reluctance seemed to be stemming from disbelief and not disinterest, and if Eddie wasn't just assuming that because he wanted it to be true, that meant he had a chance to show he was genuine. He pulled out his phone, pausing when he saw a message. 

**Mary:  
** **Newman is giving a press conference @6 about increasing gang violence.**

Right. Work. That was a thing. It was early enough that he could probably make it to City Hall in time. 

After clearing the message, he pulled up a new contact for Flash and passed his phone over. "I have to head out but I'll text you the address. And if you ever hear something about the principal skimming money off of school funds or anything else that might make good news, you have my number." 

Something amused crossed Flash's expression as he took the phone to put in his number. "Well... I did hear someone mention that one of the coaches was Spider-Man. Might be worth checking out." 

Eddie smiled brightly, feeling all the more optimistic about his chances.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-doubt? In my symbiote? It's more likely than you might think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't work in a high school but I've been to high school and at one point I wanted to be a high school psychology teacher. I changed my mind in college after finding out about all the red tape teachers have to deal with, dropped out, and became a professional psychic instead. 
> 
> No joke. 
> 
> One thing's for sure, I'm not a doctor and I was too lazy to google things. But it sounds legit so I'm gonna go with it.

_As if getting up early for class wasn't bad enough, there were faculty meetings three times a week that required Flash to get up even earlier than normal, make himself look presentable, and sit in the locked lunch room before students arrived for the state-provided breakfast that was hardly edible. The only reason it couldn't be considered entirely inedible was the saving grace of the chicken biscuit, which was just an over-sized, frozen chicken nugget on an inedible chunk they considered a biscuit._

_The symbiote always whined and tried to tug Flash's attention towards the breakfast area, where the smell of food was coming from as the cafeteria workers set up for the morning, and Flash always ignored it._

_Along with a good chunk of the meeting, if he was being honest._

_Most of it wasn't meant for him. It was curriculum updates for the other departments and current events going on with the School Board and how it would affect their district. Budget cuts coming up that might affect the football team, but he wasn't the coach in charge of that, Bradley was. He was strictly in charge of the gym classes. No doubling to teach a World History class or some other social science, no sports team to worry about, and he wasn't in charge of planning prep rallies._

_Which meant he could sit there for the entire meeting and think about the previous night's conversation with a certain reporter, wondering if he had given away too much information and if he was going to see it published on the front of a newspaper sometime this week._

_It was an irrational worry. He knew that. Eddie didn't have the evidence to back up the information and it wasn't his usual type of story. The symbiote's interest in the guy pretty much assured that he had read every article and had binged the entirety of the Eddie Brock Report, including the leaked clips of his last interview with the Life Foundation. The symbiote took great pleasure in watching Eddie throw the man off his game. Flash preferred the episode about how state lawmakers were currently screwing disabled vets out of millions, leaving many of them struggling to find jobs, homeless, and ill-prepared to conform back into civilian life._

_Eddie didn't ruin innocent lives and even if he decided that Agent Venom was a problem for the general public, hopefully if he went digging into the man behind the alien, and even the alien itself, he would find someone that didn't deserve to be dragged through the mud._

_"And I wanted to discuss this week's PTA meeting with the coaches as a final closure to this meeting."_

_That was his cue to tune back into the meeting, doubtful that he needed to but--_

_"A few of the parents have been expressing concern over the..._ Capabilities _of our newer coaches." Flash felt heat settle under his skin as dread sunk in. He knew that tone, that pause, the careful consideration of the words that followed it. He kept his eyes locked on the principal even as he felt several people glance towards him. He was the only new coach that hadn't worked a full year at the school yet. "They're worried that the students won't be able to get the same fulfilling experience out of a physical education class that they got back when they were going through school. The suggestion is to assign a more..._ Experienced _coach to oversee the class, just to make sure the students are able to get an even mix of activities throughout the semester."_

_Deep breaths. Not anything to get upset about. This wasn't personal. People often underestimated him out of ignorance. Not many people understood that you didn't need two functional legs in order to throw a damn basketball through a hoop, make sure no one passed out while running laps, or teach a bunch of teenagers how to properly hold a bar for a chin-up. They never got to see how classes were run so they just assumed, like anyone would, that he could do absolutely jack-all shit without legs, as if wheelchair basketball didn't exist, as if he couldn't put them all to shame with two pieces of curved carbon steel instead of legs, as if he didn't have more upper body strength than them and their kids combined._

_Okay, back to trying those deep breaths again._

_"After some discussion, we've decided it's not an idea we can implement right now. Football tryouts are coming up soon and we already have the coaches covering social science classes this year. As a compromise, we've decided to require all physical education classes to draft up a detailed syllabus of activities on a week to week basis. We used to require this a few years back but due to the nature of the class, it was nothing specific. If you have any questions on formatting or the specifics of the syllabus, Coach Thompson, you can always ask Coach Henley how he organizations his Economics syllabus. I'd prefer to have it emailed to me within the next couple of weeks."_

_Flash hoped his smile wasn't as forced as it felt. "No problem, I think I can manage that."_

 

* * *

That was the start to Flash's day and from there it had just gone downhill. Running into Eddie fucking Brock was the one event that seemed to straddle the line between good and bad, a confusing mess that Flash was still trying to figure out. Was it a coincidence or was Eddie investigating him? Had he just been asked out on a genuine date or was this an attempt to gather information? Those questions churned in his mind, even when he got home and flipped on the TV as background noise, as if thinking harder about the situation might actually yield an answer.

The symbiote was no help. 

**No way for him to know who we are. You're being ridiculously unreasonable.**

Except he wasn't. San Francisco was certainly no New York City, but there were hundreds of thousands of people. The chances of accidentally running into Eddie were very slim. But... He did seem genuine. Why, though? What reason would he have for asking him out on a date if it wasn't to gather information on the face behind Agent Venom?

Flash sat back on the couch, thumbing through channels with very little awareness of what was passing by on the screen, but that thought had a stretching sensation pulling at his shoulder and he glanced away from he shapes on screen to stare at the symbiote hovering near his face with narrowed, white slits for eyes. He had long gotten used to its strange appearance when it did decide to show itself, which was a feat since he nearly pissed himself the first time it reared its alien head. 

" **And why is it so hard to believe that Eddie is actually interested in a date?** " it questioned. " **You are a good looking human in peak physical condition.** " 

Oh really? Flash raised a brow and gestured down to his lap. "Hate to tell you, buddy, but I'm missing some things for  _peak physical condition_."

It wasn't possible for the symbiote to roll its eyes, but it had somehow been able to turn that gesture into a vague feeling. Coupled with the way its head tilted up slightly, it got the message across loud and clear. " **Peak physical conditions applies to what shape the body you have is in, not the parts that are missing. You're healthy. You're strong. You're capable. It's not unsurprising that Eddie would see your worth as a potential mate.** " 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, abandoning the channel surfacing and letting the local news play in the background since he wasn't going to be paying attention to it anyway. "No one phrases it that way and you really shouldn't either. This isn't an Animal Planet documentary." 

" **Fine. Unsurprising that Eddie wants to fuck you into the mattress at his earliest--** " 

The second Flash realized where the sentence was going, anxiety was tightening around his chest. He cut off the symbiote by shoving the large face away from him, heedless of the teeth or the threat they might pose to his fingers, hands, or arms. He knew the symbiote wouldn't hurt him and knew that it had enough control that it would never allow something to happen on accident either. "Nope. No, get out of my face with that. We're not having this discussion." 

He could feel the reverberation of the growl through his hands before they sank through the symbiote, solid skin turning viscous and formless so it could melt through his fingers and reform in front of Flash again. Its opal eyes were narrowed in defiance as it solidified partially around his hands, trapping them there. Flash's own look grew a bit firmer in response. 

It seemed to hesitate on that. As terrifying as the symbiote looked, Flash knew it as well as he knew himself. It would fight against any losing battle but it wouldn't fight a winning one against its host. Whatever it had been about to say, Flash could feel it thinking of other words and methods to approach the subject with more consideration until finally, " **You've made it very clear to us that you want to move away from ideas that have been forced on you. You've made progress on many of those. When are you going to start to making progress on this one?** "

Sometimes he forgot that the symbiote knew him even better than he knew it. It knew it made an impact that second Flash glanced away from it and the hold around his hands loosened until he could slip free and fully turn himself to face the TV. "Alright, you made your point, but there's still no need to be lewd about it. I don't even know if I like Eddie like that."

" **Being lewd about it is funnier. And you can't hide anything from me. I know you were thinking about his lips the entire time we were watching his show.** " Flash snorted but couldn't come up with a good retort. Not that he would have gotten to say it anyway. The next second, he felt the symbiote shift into a more snake-like shape so it was easier for it to nudge under his chin affectionately. The mesh of black webbing where it was pulling from his body expanded like a hug around his shoulders, the threads of it oozing through the fabric of his shirt like it wasn't there so it could sink below skin. Or maybe it was the other way around, rising from his skin and seeping through his shirt, it was always hard to tell. Then he felt the same webbing wrapping around the scars beneath the folded up hem of his pants, spidering up the residual parts of his thighs. " **Try again. Why is it so hard to believe that Eddie is actually interested in a date?** " 

At one point, a touch like that would have made him uncomfortable. It was hard to be bonded to a creature like the symbiote and not quickly grow used to small intimacies like that, though. Coming from a touch that was so familiar it was like his own, Flash found himself sinking back into the couch and letting his eyes close, not necessarily relaxed but... Accepting. 

Accepting of the touch, of the rumbling purr he could feel in his bones when he reached up to smooth his hand over the symbiote, and accepting of the subtle mental prod as the symbiote tried to sort through the confusing ball of human thoughts and emotions currently going on in its host's mind. Most humans could barely understand the full scope of what they felt and wanted, for the symbiote it was even worse. Unconscious desires warring with conscious ones, conflicting feelings, some that were real, some that were only there out of a sense of obligation to unfair lessons learned in childhood. Fake memories, repressed memories, intrusive thoughts, so many things that it could just barely get a grasp of. 

They both learned the hard way that the symbiote couldn't understand the human mind nearly as much as it claimed to after acting on far too many things that Flash wasn't even fully aware of having in his head. 

Good things did come out of that situation. Better communication, for one thing. An easier understanding of one another. And cooperation for moments like these, when Flash was just as lost over his own feelings as the symbiote was. 

It could start with an emotion, like self-doubt, and pair it with one of the other feelings, like shame, and find memories and times in Flash's left when he felt that same combination. The more similar the feelings were, the more helpful the recalls tended to be. 

Being able to do this was useful with the one major drawback of being awful. It forced Flash to look at parts of himself he would rather not see and understand the deeper, shittier motives behind a lot of his feelings. This one wasn't hard to pick apart. Flash wasn't sure what combination of feelings the symbiote caught onto, but he was suddenly being reminded of high school, when Casey Mulligan had finally gotten fed up with Flash and snapped, " _I don't hang around because I actually want to be around_ you _, Thompson! You're only interesting when James is there to make you seem interesting, otherwise you're nothing but a bully and it gets really old, really quick._ " Nights when he came home from a game, excited to tell his dad all about the winning pass only to find him three bottles in and cutting Flash off with a sharp, " _Brag to me when you finally get something over a C in your English classes, sonny boy. I expect you to catch a damn ball_ and _be literate._ " 

When the memory of Eddie's expression when they first crossed paths finally flickered to the forefront of his mind--the man's eyes wide with awe, too busy gaping to even raise his camera for a picture or  _get out of the way_ \--Flash knew what the problem and he snapped his eyes open with a disheartened groan, rubbing his hands down his face. 

" **Are you--** " 

"Yeah," he answered with a sigh, the heel of his hands pressing against his eyes. "Yeah, I am. It's stupid, but it makes sense for me."

Made sense to him, at least. The symbiote was almost comically puzzled as it sunk partially back into his skin, leaving just its head to bob in confusion. " **How does that make sense? How can you think that someone is going to find you less interesting than they find _you_?**" 

"It's not that simple, bud." He let his arms fall to his side, staring up at the ceiling and kind of hating himself. "For Eddie, it's two different people. Everyone has some expectation of who's behind Agent Venom, including him, and I can promise you he's not expecting the disabled, exhausted, high school coach that he had to rescue from a cafe door. What's the point of going out with that guy when he just had Agent Venom snooping around his apartment and sitting down with him for a personal conversation? Not unless he knows and he's looking for more information. Even if he's not, the closer he gets to Agent Venom, the less he's going to want to do with me. Or, if somehow this manages to work out, we'll have to tell him and it's going to--" 

"--Eddie Brock--" 

The name coming from the TV had alarm prickling through both of them out of the sheer unexpectedness of hearing it. Both of them immediately turned to the news broadcast, Flash leaning forward as the alarm stayed bouncing between the two of them. The tagline scrolling at the bottom of the screen read, "Violence at Press Conference Regarding Increasing Violence" and they were currently showing a small clip of Eddie holding out his recorder towards the mayor in a crowd of reporters. Then some guy was pushing his way through people until he was close enough to throw a punch at Eddie. 

"SFN was lucky to catch the action on their cameras," a female reporter was saying over the repeating clip. "It seems like Mr. Brock is still determined to cause trouble whenever he possibly can, doesn't it Michael?" 

"The guy certainly does have a lot of opinions and he doesn't hold back, that's for sure." 

They were laughing at him. Straight up laughing at him. 

"What do you think of Mr. Brock on a professional level, one reporter about another?" 

Flash didn't wait to hear the anchor's answer. He snatched up the remote and flipped to find a different local news channel. Maybe one that understood why a reporter couldn't judge another reporter when one was a journalist gathering the information the other was reading off a damn teleprompter. They caught the next network during their recap. 

"--Mayor Newman had just opened up questions when a journalist from Fact Sheet, none other than our very own Eddie Brock himself, started up his typical barrage of questions." They cut to the full clip, this time with sound. 

_A second of voices all talking at once before Eddie's voice cut above them as he pushed to the front. "Mr. Newman, how exactly does the increase of law enforcement in problem areas benefit you personally?"_

_Newman paused, blinking slowly before leaning towards the microphone. "The safety of this city's citizens is--"_

" _Is always second priority to your wallet, Mr. Newman. Last year you cut the budget for law enforcement in order to fund oil projects that were estimated to make you thousands. Before the outbreak of violence through the city, you started cutting education and infrastructure to fund law enforcement. Why? What do you stand to gain from--_ " 

_He was cut off when a man pushed through the crowd to throw a hard-landing punch and then the camera was jostling as the person operating it hastily backed up as several more people came to join the fray, security and police following quick behind them to pull every apart._

The clip stopped before they could see Eddie again. 

Flash's phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped it out to check who it was while listening to the news anchor say, "Reports from the event say the violence was short-lived and no one was seriously injured, including the reporter that had sparked the violence in the first place." 

 **Unknown:  
** **Hey, this is Eddie! I really hate to do this but**

It was understandable why Eddie was cancelling but the bite of disappointment was surprisingly harsh. And entirely his own, since the only thing radiating from the symbiote was distress and concern. It turned it's eyes from the TV to Flash's phone with a questioning noise similar to a cat being touched in its sleep if that cat was also deeply afraid that you were about to deliver bad news. 

"If he's texting me, he's fine," Flash assured, reaching up to give the symbiote a consoling pat. "The reporter just said that no one was seriously injured." 

" **Also said that Eddie sparked the violence first.** " 

Pursing his lips, Flash dropped his eyes back to his phone to finish reading the message since he really didn't have an argument for that. 

 **Unknown:  
** **Hey, this is Eddie! I really hate to do this but I got into a little accident with work and it might be a good idea for me to keep my head down for the next few days. Instead of sushi, would you be down for a movie at one of our places?**

Oh. 

He wasn't cancelling. 

Flash hesitated and then started typing, [Yeah, no problem. How about your ]

" **Our place.** " 

He paused and glanced up at the symbiote, meeting his unblinking gaze. "Uh... Any particular reason you want him to come here?" 

" **So that he knows of somewhere he can go if he gets into trouble** ," it answered simply. " **Send that, and then we're going to check up on him. Make sure he's okay.** " 

Sometimes it wasn't worth arguing about. [Yeah, no problem. How about my place around 2pm?] He sent his address with the text and waited until they got Eddie's reply before "suiting up" to go check on the guy and help ease the symbiote's sudden flare of anxiety.

 **Eddie Brock:  
** **Sounds great, I'll see you then! :)**

 

* * *

 

This time they decided not to break in but knocking on the front door was still way too risky. The last thing they needed was a neighbor seeing Agent Venom waiting in the hall. They did the next best thing and tapped lightly on the living room window that overlooked the alley that Eddie parked his motorcycle in. The figure inside started so hard he nearly dropped the bag of tater tots he was holding to his face before rushing over to the window. When he struggled to open it with one hand, a tendril snuck out to help until they could slip inside and shut it politely behind them. 

Eddie had clearly taken a beaten. 

He was holding the frozen tater tots over his left eye with a bruise forming on his right cheek. Eddie had missed cleaning off a few spots of dried blood from under his nose but the front of his shirt was a testament to how close he had come to breaking it. 

Once the surprise of their visit had worn off, which didn't take long, Eddie just looked tired. He turned his back on them so he could flop down on the couch and readjust the tater tots. "If you're here for more information, I've got nothing new." 

This was doing very little to stem the symbiote's distress. They stepped forward and sat down next to Eddie, Flash letting them reach out to gently pluck the bag of tater tots from Eddie and take a look at the bruising around his eye. Eddie stiffened at the touch and watched warily but let them turn his head and survey the damage. "I saw the news report, actually. I wanted to make sure you had gotten home alright."

That seemed to surprise Eddie and he fidgeted until they let go of his chin and shifted back a comfortable distance. "Right, yeah. Forgot. You like me. Or, uh. Venom likes me. I'm okay. I've had a lot worse than this. Sometimes I underestimate how uptight people get about the politicians they support. But I'm seriously fine. Thanks for checking in on me." It seemed like a pretty clear dismissal but then Eddie was sitting up and adjusting himself so he was facing them, the half of the face they could see set in determination. "Actually, since you're here, I have questions about the stuff you told me last night."

Well. Getting mobbed clearly didn't dampen Eddie's investigative spirit. They gave a slight nod. "Alright, shoot." 

They could see the subtle shift in Eddie's posture as he went into interrogation mode. The symbiote noticed it more than Flash did, was the one that drew attention to the spark in Eddie's eye and the way his shoulders squared. "So there's a human host and an alien, right?" They gave a single nod, watching the gears turn in Eddie's head. He had clearly reached some conclusion that he was trying to confirm but the symbiote's confidence and trust in Eddie made it hard for Flash to be nervous in their current form. "And the host looks like a normal human, goes about a normal human life?" Another nod. "But the alien is still there, the entire time?" A nod. "Is it obvious to the human host that the alien is there? Can the host hear it? Does it comment on things throughout the day? Can you two communicate?" 

The barrage of questions had them holding up a hand to pause Eddie, amusement sparking through them and curving the shape of their eyes. "Yes, we can communicate, and we usually do, but we also have very different priorities. The symbiote is chatty whether it gets a reply or not and the host is pretty good about not letting it distract them. Whether it's talking or not, it's still  _there_. It's still felt."

"How is that not weird?" Eddie leaned forward with a frown, the picture of someone engrossed in a topic. "Seriously, man, I would be embarrassed about everything I do if I knew someone was watching me. How confident do you have to be as a person in order to live with something like that? Do you have any privacy?" 

Speaking of Eddie's expectations of the Agent, it seemed like they were getting a hint of that now. The amusement faded back into something neutral as they thought about the question. Just by virtue of asking, it answered a question of their own. Eddie was under the impression the human was someone confident, and that wasn't what Flash showed earlier at the cafe. Which meant the date was just that. A date. Independent of whatever Eddie thought of Agent Venom.

**Told you.**

"No privacy. And... You don't have to be very confident to live with a symbiote. The host is just a human, Eddie. With self-doubts and questions and flaws of their own that they're working through. The human mind is great at adapting to circumstances."

Eddie didn't look satisfied by the answer. "But... What about the really embarrassing stuff? The stuff you wouldn't share with anyone out of common decency? I'm talking... Bowl movements you would never make in a public restroom let alone in front of another living creature." 

It took a second for the full scope of the question to sink in, for them to realize that Eddie had  _thought about this_ , that it clearly bothered him and for him, it was a very serious question. Then they were laughing, the sound rumbling lowly like the symbiote's laugh under Flash's, blurring into one, seamless sound that shook through their shoulders in a way that made their form seem a little less solid. They knew Eddie was staring at them, something unreadable his expression, but for the moment they didn't care and it took a few seconds for them to sink back into a low chuckle. "Sorry, that's-- That's actually a good it's question, it's just... Unexpected." 

Eddie nodded mutely. 

They hoped the laughing wasn't being mistaken as them laughing  _at_  Eddie. 

"It doesn't happen, to put it simply. The symbiote makes sure its host is in top health at all times. Digestive problems just don't come up anymore. If the host eats something harmful, the symbiote breaks it down before it causes problems. There's nothing we've found that it can't eat. What it doesn't give to the host to digest, it digests, or it dissolves. And if there ever was a problem, the symbiote sees things in a very different way. For humans, bowl problems are embarrassing, messy, and awful. For the symbiote, it sees the human body at work, naturally pushing damaging substances through the digestive system as quickly as possible. It sees a very clever defense against harmful bacteria that managed to survive through stomach acid. It's an alien. It doesn't have the same sense of shame that humans do." 

Eddie lapsed into a thoughtful silence that was only broken with a soft hum while he contemplated that. Whatever his judgement, he seemed impressed when he finally shook his head and turned his attention back to Agent Venom. "That's actually a pretty good reminder. Something else you said yesterday... This form, what you look like now, you said it was what you both felt comfortable with. Does that mean there's a form the Agent feels more comfortable in?" 

"Their own," they answered with a shrug. 

"And Venom?" 

The name was still odd but it had the symbiote feeling warm that its suggestion had been used. There was a distinction that it liked the name from Eddie, that it still didn't feel the need for one from Flash, so the issue wasn't pushed. 

"That's a bit more difficult. The symbiote's form is very flexible and how it feels comfortable changes depending on its mood. In this form, it's  _us_ , but the human host does have a bit more control. It's just how we were trained to operate. We do look...  _Different_  when the symbiote has more control. We act different." 

They knew what was coming even before Eddie spoke up just because of the curiosity on his face as he slowly lowered the bag of tater tots to his lap. "Can I see?" 

_Please have mercy on him, buddy. Remember my reaction._

There was no mercy. 

It started with the eyes. The crisp lines of the flat white blurred with the black, flaring out into points on the outside edges while the white took on a wet, organic look instead of something resembling plastic. The details and well-defined pads of the "uniform" seemed to melt into one another before bulking up with muscle while the blank mask of Agent Venom split open under the eyes, strings of black connecting the upper and lower portions like saliva until the grin was stretched wide to show rows of pointed teeth. It was too wide too look natural of their face. Eddie seemed to shrink and they bulked up, gloved fingers turning into large clawed ones and then Eddie was staring up in wide-eyed horror at what used to be Agent Venom. 

" **Hello, Eddie.** " Even their voice had changed, more of the symbiote's deep rumble. It was oblivious to the way Eddie flinched back when they leaned down, eyes narrowing and grin widening, very pleased that Eddie had wanted to talk to  _it_. " **It's nice to speak with you like this.** " They offered a hand that was about the size of Eddie's face. 

"Um..." Eddie raised his hand, then hesitated. They could hear the way his heart pounded and when their tongue flicked from between their jaws, they could taste the sweet on his brow and the dried blood on his shirt. 

Chuckling, they gently reached for Eddie's hand, taking it very carefully and shaking it.

"Holy shit." 

Their grinned widened. " **We prefer _hot shit._ Not many consider us holy. But we'll accept it all the same.**" 

The sound that left Eddie could only be described as a  _giggle_ , but one of those nervous ones that a person makes when they're on edge and about to lose it. Despite that, when they unwrapped their hand from Eddie's, he immediately wrapped his around their index finger and draw his eyes away from the teeth to look at their hand. They offered it, palm up, for Eddie's inspection and watched curiously as Eddie reached forward with his other hand to explore the texture with nothing short of breathless awe. 

Flash was hit with the sudden awareness that he hadn't been the only one feeling a little doubtful of Eddie's reaction to him. The symbiote had just hidden it well and hadn't let it keep them from this. The giveaway was the sudden joyful relief when Eddie looked back up at their face with wide eyes and then leaned up on his knees so he could press his hand to their cheek with a soft, "Wow..."

_You should have told me._

**Wasn't important.**

He hoped one day the symbiote would understand why it was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do dates work? No one knows. Least of all an alien that learned about the existence of dates less than a year ago because it watched a movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how dates work. 
> 
> You'll also see that I've upped the rating of this fic. That's for future chapters, not this one.
> 
> There's a good chance that the next three chapters are going to be very long unless I decide to cut them down. I won't apologize but I doubt anyone wants me to anyway.

_Eddie was absolutely enthralled by them but he was skittish. He wasn't disgusted or terrified, but he was cautious and his touches were shaky and light. The symbiote tried to encourage him with a grin and a rumbling purr of approval but that only had Eddie snatching his hands back with wide eyes as if he had done something wrong. Just as quick, the symbiote was curling fingers around his wrists to keep him from jerking back completely. They could smell his fear and feel the tremble of his breath as he froze in their grip._

Careful there, buddy. 

_They were being careful. It was being careful. Humans were incredibly fragile and easy to break and breaking Eddie was absolutely not allowed. The grip was light, just strong enough to keep him held, barely enough pressure to dent the very thin layer of flesh that kept everything important all wrapped up and warm._

_Nothing else was said, but Flash's mind was always active with thoughts, feelings, and memories. There was caution and concern, memories of their first time meeting and how long it took Flash to not flinch at every quick movement even when he knew that no harm was intended towards him. The first few weeks had been awful. It felt like it had been tormenting its host with the way Flash tensed uncomfortably and avoided so much at looking at it whenever it pulled away from him. But speaking internally had been difficult too, had caused discomfort and panic and doubts about what was real and what wasn't. No matter the assurances or the gentleness, Flash had been scared._

_The warning wasn't about the strength of their grip._

_Eddie leaned back as far as he could when the symbiote shifted their head down closer, slowly hunching. It was even slower when it pulled Eddie's hands closer, feeling his pulse fluttering quick and erratic against their skin. It held Eddie's palms back against their cheeks, eyes curving into pleased slits as it repeated the rumbling sound. Softer this time. Eddie's eyes widened and when he leaned forward slightly, the symbiote dared to let go of him and the hands stayed. Then slowly moved to stroke over their head oh so gently. Once Eddie didn't seem so hesitant, it dared to lean into the touch, and Eddie only paused for a brief second before chuckling breathlessly and resuming his attention._

_"This is, uh... Definitely not how I expected to spend my evening. You're not that dangerous, huh?"_

_They grinned. " **Not to you. We like you.** "_

_Eddie tilted his head with a slight smile of his own, moving to rub his fingertips between their eyes. "We, huh? Does that include your person?"_

_Oh, that was nice. That was very nice, right there. Their eyes were just a faint curved line. " **Yes, we.** " It let their tongue loll out, very pleased with the attention and Eddie's answering laugh, a sound that seemed more comfortable every time he made it. _

_It was an obvious answer. Some things in the human mind were hard to untangle and comprehend, but this was easy. Flash liked Eddie. Flash admired Eddie. Flash thought Eddie was reckless but brave, Flash was reminded of himself when he watched Eddie throw himself into a dicey situation, Flash would then remember that he had military training and Eddie was a civilian, and then Flash would feel even more admiration mixed with a growing concern that was hidden behind a false sense of exasperation. It also covered the genuine bit of pride. And the bitter parts of Flash that felt like Eddie was so much better than him, so much braver, so much more than him. But that part was quieter and hardly ever shut up. They both tuned it out._

_It all made sense, though. Like this, the symbiote could feel the spark of connection between its cells and Eddie's. Eddie's cells would accept it as easily as Flash's. They would allow it to move like fluid through Eddie's systems, so compatible that it wouldn't have to worry about bursting cells if it moved too quickly. It would be able to manifest as easily through Eddie as it did through Flash. And if both Flash and Eddie were compatible with it, then surely logic dictated that Eddie and Flash were also compatible with each other._

_Flash let it indulge awhile longer until they both noticed the stagnant blood under Eddie's skin was starting to look deeper and cause tissue swelling without the cold bag of food to help keep it down. Eddie was in pain, they could see it in the pinch of his face as he pulled his hands back and rubbed under the discolored skin around his eye. Then Flash took back over and reigned in their appearance to one that matched the gentle but unyielding control of his psyche and they picked up the bag of frozen tots--the one that smelled delicious but was much better cooked--and handed it back to the other human._

_Eddie shot them a grateful smile and settled it over his eye. "Thanks. I'm sure I look like shit."_

_The casualness of the comment filled Flash with fond amusement. "Just a little bit. We'll let you rest. Take some anti-inflammatories, it should help."_

_They stood and Eddie nodded to the instructions. If the symbiote could, it would have taken the pain away from Eddie itself. It almost demanded to when Eddie suddenly groaned and leaned back against the couch in distress until he made it clear the distress wasn't from pain. "Shit, I have a date on Sunday and I'm going to show up looking like I got jumped."_

_It was hard to sort out the sudden rush of feelings the statement prompted in Flash but there was surprise and flattery and those were nice. They were feelings that should be there more often. "Don't worry about it, Eddie. You have the tendency to get yourself into trouble. This is a good way of making sure they can handle that before you get too deep, right?"_

_Eddie's lips twitched into a half-smile. "Yeah, that's true. Your alien friend won't get jealous, will he?"_

_It was a tease. They liked the tease. "Lucky for you and your date, it's not the jealous type."_

_This date would go perfect. The symbiote planned to make sure of it._

 

* * *

Saturday night was a mess. There was usually a small increase of crime over the weekend but this was more than either of them was used to. The symbiote echoed the strong sense of duty that Flash felt every time they were out on the streets so cries for help, sounds of gunshots, and chatter from passing police radios didn't go ignored. They couldn't. Innocent humans were out there getting hurt and they had the power and opportunity to at least reduce the damage. Flash was hoping it would lead them to something. They were keeping an ear out for mentions of the weapons dealer from last time but there had been very little luck so far. 

They returned home Sunday morning before the sun rose, exhaustion clinging to Flash's muscles and his attention slipping and groggy. 

"Text Eddie to make sure we're still good for today, alright?" he mumbled, the symbiote making sure they got to the couch before letting Flash's body hit the surface so he could sleep. "Wake me up an hour before if he gives the green." It was muffled into the couch cushions.

They were working too hard. The symbiote could feel how it wore on their body. What little bit of sleep they were getting wasn't enough to heal every micro-tear in muscles or keep their immune system running smoothly. The symbiote had to pick up where their body naturally couldn't and while that hardly bothered it, the strain on its host wasn't preferred. 

Especially the mental stress. That was one thing it didn't have much control over and Flash stressed often about many things. The less rest he got, the more his thoughts looped and knotted themselves into worries, complicated fears of future events, and self-depreciation. All the more reason for this date to work out. 

The symbiote (being a self-proclaimed professional when it came to matters of human romance) waited until the decent hour of 7AM to text Eddie.

 **Flash:  
** **still up for netflix and chill today? ;)  
  
Eddie:   
** **Already feeling feisty this early in the morning, huh? Jk, yeah, I'm still up for it!**

 **Eddie:  
** **Anything you want me to bring?**

 **Flash:  
** **just you is fine, I have snacks. See you at 2!**

While Flash slept, it planned.   
****

* * *

 

**Stop. Stop looking at the walls. They're fine. He isn't going to care.**

Flash sighed and dutifully turned his attention back to ESPN but the worry still pulled at his mind. It was so dumb. The date was soon. Flash smelled like lavender growing on a cliffside. Supposedly. The symbiote had never smelled lavender growing on a cliffside but the bottle of soap claimed it was lavender and the picture showed the pretty purple plants growing along a cliffside. Whether it was accurate or not hardly mattered, the scent was a very pleasant one. The apartment was clean. It was always clean. So that wasn't a problem. 

Except apparently it was. 

While usually Flash considered the place clean, now that he was expecting someone over,  _clean_  had turned into  _empty, bland,_ and even  _sterile._  As a being who had spent its first few months on earth in a sterile lab environment, it personally found that one to be mildly insulting to their home. 

But Flash was worried about the empty walls and lack of personal belongings, and what that would cause Eddie to think. 

They had Spider-Man magnets on the fridge. 

Flash didn't feel like three magnets clustered at the top corner with no notes or slips or papers to hold up was kind of sad. 

There was a bookcase with pictures on it. Most of the pictures were just shown for obligation purposes because looking at them often made Flash feel nostalgic in a way that bordered on unpleasant, but they were there. Flash in his high school jersey. (Adorable. Very small. His grin was confident and cocky. His hair was much shorter, with lightning bolts shaved into the side.) A picture of him with his sister and her husband at their wedding. (His smile was so very gentle and fragile. Genuine, but looking so easy to break.) A family portrait taken before he joined the military. (Objectively terrible. The worst picture. All of their eyes were dead and the smiles were fake and the man that was Flash's father had a hand on his shoulder that Flash was subtly leaning away from.) Then there was the fancy double-sided thing behind the other pictures, one side holding a shiny badge that Flash had called a Medal of Honor and the other side holding a formal picture of him in his military uniform when he first graduated Army training. (Very handsome. He looked proud. The strange paradox was that he looked prouder in the picture that was taken before he won the Medal of Honor than he did whenever he mentioned the Medal of Honor now. Now it made him feel an uncomfortable mix of grief and regret.)

To Flash, those pictures and the collection of untouched books was very little compared to what most people displayed. 

He regretted storing all of his posters in his closet instead of hanging them up but when the symbiote offered to help him quickly hang them, the resulting embarrassment had Flash hastily declining. Apparently posters of Spider-Man, Captain America, Eli Manning, and attractive girls in bathing suits with cars weren't appropriate decor either. 

And neither was exercise equipment, because Flash merely shook his head when the treadmill and weights were brought to his attention. 

To the symbiote, all of these things were very telling about Flash as a person. His host was absolutely certain that Eddie wouldn't see any of that and would instead think his life was boring and bland. 

Nothing could be done about changing his mind so the symbiote had given up. 

Everything else was perfect. While Flash slept, it had browsed Netflix and come up with a suggested movie. At first, the information had made Flash nervous and doubtful. Several of the symbiote's favorite movies had come to mind and while they were  _good movies, Flash_ , none of them were proper date suggestions. Flash did end up liking its suggestion, pleasantly surprised by the thought that went into it. Chips and a couple bottles of water were out on the coffee table, along with a bowl of chocolates lovingly prepared by the symbiote, pulled from it's own personal stash. Another thing to surprise Flash, who was well acquainted with the symbiote's blatant unwillingness to share it's chocolate. 

( **This is different,**  it had explained, exasperated that it even had to defend itself. **You get that chocolate for _me_. Remember? You specifically said not for  _us_ , for  _me_. The chocolate is too important for you take handfuls to work and give out to small humans that don't cause as much trouble as the other small humans. They're cute but they respond equally well to star stickers or those little packets of chalk button candies. Eddie is different and we want to share.**

It had the distinct feeling that Flash still didn't fully understand the importance of the chocolate.)  
****

Everything was set up, it was just a matter of keeping Flash's attention off the bareness of the walls until Eddie showed up. When Flash's thoughts once again started to turn towards nervousness, the symbiote prepared to scold him again but paused, a thrill running through it when it sensed footsteps that matched Eddie's size and weight. Flash felt it and that was enough to pull his attention away from being nervous about the walls to just being _nervous_. 

 **Relax. You'll be fine.**  

A tendril snaked out to snag the remote and flip the TV over to Netflix while Flash shifted himself from the couch to his chair. "Yeah, alright... If you say so." 

Despite knowing it was coming, Flash still started when Eddie knocked. Since it couldn't roll its eyes, it mimicked the emotions that Flash felt whenever  _he_  rolled his eyes. Humans were so weird. There were so many feelings they felt that they didn't have names for or recognized in themselves, but they knew exactly what those feelings were when mirrored back at them. At least it made communication with them easier. 

Flash moved to answer the door, the smile on their face feeling a bit strained due to the anxiety but it didn't have to last long. To keep up appearances, they needed to be shocked over the healing bruises on Eddie's his face. Flash was very good at playing dumb. Their eyes widened as Flash backed up to let Eddie in, the perfect mix of concerned and alarmed. "Geez, Eddie! Are you okay? What happened?"

The injuries looked much better than they had before. The swelling was down and the blood that was discoloring Eddie's skin was no longer fresh and purplish-blue but had faded into hues of green and yellow. Eddie didn't look pained when he smiled sheepishly, either, which was more relieving. 

"Uh... An accident at work," he answered as slipped inside. "Remember how I said I only harass the people that deserve it? Sometimes people disagree with me on who deserves to be harassed, and..." He gestured to his face with a shrug, his chuckle sounding a little strained. "Occupation hazard, really. It happens." Eddie glanced around the apartment but his expression never changed. His eyes did linger on the treadmill but Flash wasn't currently feeling self-conscious over his space so the symbiote didn't bring it to his attention.

Instead there was that exasperation that Flash used to hide all the warm fondness he felt. A defense mechanism because even the exasperation was just for them, the only thing in their expression was worry and surprise as they shut the door behind Eddie. "No wonder you wanted to lay low. Those are some drastic occupational hazards. I'm surprised you didn't just reschedule the date." 

Flash's reaction seemed to assure Eddie that he wasn't making a terrible impression and his smile looked easier. Then it turned sly. "What, and skip out on Netflix and Chill with a cute guy?" he teased. 

There was a second of blank confusion as Flash wondered why Eddie was using that specific phrase with that specific tone. Then he caught the symbiote's shameless amusement and his thoughts took on an accusatory tint as he fought to continue looking oblivious. "Uh... Yeah? How come it sounds like you're implying something here, Eddie? There's Netflix. There's chilling." Eddie had to use the back of his hand to hide his growing smile which left the perfect opening for Flash to continue his ruse. "Oh no. Please tell me that actually means what it sounds like it means. My students talk about Netflix and Chill all the time." 

Eddie appeared to be holding back laughter. "Mmm... Awkward. I mean, I figured you knew, what with the winking face on the end of your text--" The symbiote felt another accusatory stab in its direction but was too thrilled with the situation to care. The warmth of blood under Flash's skin was turning his cheeks a faint pink color that had Eddie's smile widening. "Don't worry, I knew you were probably joking. I didn't show up thinking it would actually be  _Netflix and Chill_." Eddie was sweet and considerate, turning away from Flash's very real embarrassment and instead directing his attention to the large flat-screen. "Now that's a nice TV. Did you have a movie in mind or did you plan for the first hour of the date to be us indecisively going back and forth on choices? Because I suck at making movie choices."

"Ah, yeah... I needed something good to watch the Super Bowl on." Eddie glanced over at Flash's stilted tone. "Sorry, just. Dying of embarrassment. Uh. Go ahead and have a seat, make yourself at home. I was thinking of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, if that sounded good to you?" 

(A classic, according to human standards. From what the symbiote had been able to gather, most people had watched it and while it wasn't often a movie that they chose to watch again on their own, not many complained about the suggestion to watch it again. That made it a good movie to talk over, previous knowledge helping the viewers stay on track with the plot during lulls in the conversation. It was lighthearted and entertaining while still managing to pose moral and existential questions that might be discussed by the two as a way of bonding and discovering more about each other, which seemed to be the whole purpose of a date. Plus aliens. It was perfect.)

Eddie's expression brightened at the suggestion. "That sounds great! I read the book so often it damn near fell apart on me, this'll be a blast from the past." 

Flash felt surprised by the relief and excitement he felt over Eddie's approval. 

(The symbiote decided that it might have put too much thought into why that movie was the perfect movie when clearly the only reason that mattered was how happy Eddie looked at the thought of watching it.)

 

* * *

 

During the symbiote's time with Flash, it had watched many, many romance movies. 

It loved them. Loved the way people met and fell for each other. How they overcame problems for one another. How they slowly fell in love or quickly fell in love and slowly accepted it. It loved the hope and devotion and how the misery leading up to the happy end was always worth it, always secondary to the love, the gentle acceptance, and the feeling of belonging the characters found with each other. 

Every romance movie handled dates differently. 

This date didn't look like any of them. 

And that... 

That was actually okay. 

It started off well. The awkward conversation grew more comfortable as Flash relaxed and Eddie smiled at them often. At one point he even reached out to take Flash's hand and their pulse had quickened and taken a very long time to calm down. When it did, it was only because the exhaustion from earlier was catching up to Flash as the conversation hit a lull and they both had their attention on the movie.

That's when the date started veering off course. 

Flash became dangerously close to dozing off, listing slightly towards Eddie instead of sitting up and the symbiote was tempted to adjust the adrenaline in their system to prompt them back towards wakefulness, but... Eddie's breaths were deeper and his pulse was slower. 

Sure enough, when their cheek pressed against Eddie's shoulder, the other human hardly shifted. 

Eddie did have the tendency towards overextending himself and he didn't have anyone to make sure his body continued to function optimally in order to balance the workload and exhaustion. And the attack on him... The symbiote decided that this was for the best of all parties involved. A good relationship was one where the humans involved felt comfortable and rested around each other instead of stressed and drained. This first date would prove they could find peace around each other. The symbiote settled comfortably in its host's chest and found rest for itself listening to both the internal biorhythms of Flash and the external biorhythms of Eddie.

 

* * *

 

"I am so sorry for falling asleep on you like that." 

**The guilt isn't necessary.**

Eddie's smile was lazy and still held a bit of sleepiness as he stood at the front door. "Really, don't worry about it, Flash. I fell asleep too. From the dark circles under your eyes and the dark circles all over my face... I think we both needed it." 

**Told you.**

Flash still felt embarrassed and flustered and... Miserable. Like he had ruined something. The symbiote wasn't sure how much of that showed on their face, but some of it must have, because Eddie's expression softened. "Honestly, that was probably one of the best dates I've been on in awhile, man. Your couch is very comfortable and you were pretty cozy yourself."

Blood warmed their cheeks and the flustered feeling grew until the miserable one was hardly perceptible. "Yeah, well... Maybe next time we can actually watch the movie?" 

**Next time!**

Eddie grinned. The symbiote thought it looked hopeful. "Next time? Like next week, maybe?"

Their own smile was slower but eventually it felt just as wide as Eddie's. "Yeah, sure, I think I can pencil something in." 

Eddie swooped down to press his lips against their cheek. It had their stomach twisting in knots in a way that was both pleasant and awful. Their heart skipped an odd rhythm in their chest and that probably wasn't healthy. "Sounds like a date, then. Can't wait." The symbiote couldn't wait for the next stomach knot and heart palpitation either, deciding that it very much enjoyed every second.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows the first couple weeks of dating is just future relationship foreshadowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason I'm literally writing a full chapter a day is because I have nothing better to do and I'm afraid if I stop writing, I'll stop for another six years. I'm on a roll, might as well just throw out a Hail Mary and keep gunning for the end zone. 
> 
> Like this chapter. When I had over 9K words typed up and I still wasn't done with everything I planned on putting in, I was like, well, gotta split this baby up then.

They had finally managed to track down the weapons dealer again. In the process, they had learned of several others that were arming gangs and small groups across the city but this was the one that had originally met with Marcus Morgan. The one that had been arrested and released several days later. Sources--if you could really count shaken down street thugs as a source when really, Agent Venom just knew how to get them to talk--claimed that Jake the Breaks had a seller lined up to talk to him in the abandoned parking lot of a closed down K-Mart. They made sure the informant was too tied up with wiggling his way out of police custody to warn "Jake the Breaks". 

Honestly, Flash preferred the abandoned parking lot idea. Still brushing close to cliche but there were more places to hide. Easier to watch the van parked in the lot and see who was approaching, their night vision better than any arms dealer. 

Lucky for them, they saw the "buyer" creeping around from behind the building long before Jake did. 

Eddie's surprised yelp was stifled with the palm of their hand, his kicking and struggling more of an annoyance than an actual inconvenience as they dragged him through the broken window of the K-Mart and deep enough into the building that a conversation wouldn't attracted unwanted attention. Flash only felt slightly bad, only slightly because Eddie shouldn't have been there in the first place. The second they let go of Eddie, they had to step away from a poorly thrown punch before Eddie actually  _saw_ them. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, man!" he hissed. "You scared the shit out of me! I thought I was being dragged in here to be violently murdered!" 

"That can still happen," they answered, deadpan and not even close to being amused. "What the hell are you doing?" 

Eddie huffed and made a vague gesture towards the doors of the building. "Uh. Buying a gun? What does it look like? I figured after the whole getting punched in the face at a press conference thing, I'd ask around about getting something to protect myself with." 

"And it's a complete coincidence that your asking around led you to the same guy we saw meeting with the mayor's assistant?" They were rewarded with a winning grin as Eddie pulled out his tape recorder. Eddie was rewarded with a long groan as they pressed their hand against their forehead. "You're trying to set the guy up. Look, I understand how easy it is to underestimate a single man selling semi-automatics out of the back of his van but you realize he's still an illegal arm's dealer, right? With guns? Who saw your face when you tried to catch him with Morgan the first time around?" 

That had Eddie hesitating, his grin faltering. "It was dark. He might not have seen me clearly. And it's not just about setting him up. I keep a copy for myself, I hand a copy over to the cops. If Henderson doesn't stay locked up this time, I have proof the cops aren't doing their jobs, and that's kind of a big deal." 

Risk versus reward and Eddie was the kind of person to take the risk. They held their hand out. "The recorder, Eddie." 

"Oh, c'mon--" 

"No. The recorder, now." 

Frustration practically rolled off Eddie as he shoved the device into their hands, lips pursed. "You know I have a career, right? One that I actually have to write news for?" He gestured sharply between himself and them. "Whatever our little dynamic is here, it needs to change. You guys like me, cool, whatever, but you can't use that as an excuse to keep me from doing my job. People need to know what's going on, not just trust that someone's solving it all in the shadows." 

As much as they hated to admit it, he actually had a point.

The original plan had been to take the recorder and send Eddie on his way. Instead, inky black tendrils covered the device and it sunk out of sight. "Fine. I agree, whatever is going on, it needs to be published. But you seriously need to stop putting yourself in the line of fire, Eddie. It's bad enough you're bringing a tape recorder to a gun fight but stop drawing a target on yourself in the process. Now stay out of sight and let me do  _my_  job. I'll help you with yours." 

They used Eddie's brief moment of surprise to slip into the shadows and out of sight. 

Eddie's recklessness wasn't anything new. And admittedly, Eddie's investigative skills were impressive. It took them the same amount of time to track down the same person, with Agent Venom shaking down the criminal underworld and Eddie just... Talking to people. 

It worried them. It worried Flash, if he was being honest. Eddie was clearly good at his job, but the dangerous leaps he was taking was something all too familiar. Flash could remember the stupid, reckless things he had done anytime he felt lost and backed into a corner that he couldn't see a way out of. It spoke of larger issues. It spoke of a disregard for life, a mentality of feeling so stuck that the idea of fucking up and dying seemed more like a solution than a consequence. 

That first date with Eddie had actually been kind of nice. Flash couldn't remember the last time he just held hands with someone or woke up to warp arms wrapped around him and the feeling of someone's every breath tickling through his hair. 

Flash was surprised by how much he wanted a second one. 

They ripped Jake from the driver's side door and had a gun pressed to his cheek so quickly, the man barely had the time to make a sound before a sharp prod from the gun was silencing him. "Jake the Breaks. Interesting street name. Are you in the habit of breaking things or did the rhyming just catch on?" 

They had him pressed up against the side of his van by the front of his shirt and with how badly he was shaking as he stared at them, Flash was sure they were the only reason he was currently upright. "I... I used to fix c-cars..." 

"Oh. Car breaks. Huh. It's not as interesting now that the mystery's been ruined. Oh well. Jake, you mind stating your full name for the record, please?" 

"Wha--" 

They pressed the gun a bit more solidly against his jaw, bruising skin and sending a fresh set of trembling through the man. "Your full name." 

"Jake, uh. Jake Henderson. What are you--" 

"I'm not answering your questions, that's what I'm doing. Do you sell illegal weapons, yes or no?" 

"H-How are you--" 

"Yes or no, Jake?" 

The man swallowed hard and nodded. A little shift of the muzzle prompted a quick, "Y-Yeah, yes, yeah, I sell illegal weapons. Did you want--" 

"Not looking to buy, sorry. You were arrested last week and released within forty-eight hours. This was after I caught you talking to... Refresh my memory, who was it again that you were meeting up with?" 

"Morgan. Marcus. Marcus Morgan." 

Their eyes tilted up as if they were smiling. "Look at you, you're getting better at answering questions. That's great, man. Was Morgan the one that paid off the cops who released you?" 

"I... I don't know. I don't know, please! Maybe? Maybe he was. I just know some of the cops are working for someone, I don't know if it's him or... Or someone else." 

Agent Venom was practically made for this work and Flash was good at it. The actual investigations? Not so much. But scaring the piss out of people and getting them to talk? Yeah, he could do that. It helped that the symbiote genuinely enjoyed it. It had it's soft moments but times like this, Flash could feel the way it thrilled at every shake of Jake's voice. It could taste the fear from him, took a harsh kind of enjoyment out of the tears and sweat and terror. It wanted to push the gun harder, it wanted to leave darker bruises, it wanted blood to match the blood this man had on his hands after arming so many others who turned right around to hurt innocent people. Flash kept all of that carefully restrained but the symbiote made it hard not to take a  _little_  bit of joy out of this. 

"Someone else? Jake, it almost sounds like you know someone who might have the police in their pocket. Do you?" 

"N-No--" 

"Don't lie to me." 

"I ain't! I don't-- I don't know! He's just getting his shit up and running, man. It's probably Morgan you're after, but like... Morgan's just helping him get his people armed right now. I don't know anymore than that. Morgan was just making a deal with me to arm his shit." 

Okay, they were actually getting somewhere now. A third player on the streets. 

"Who?" 

"I don't--" 

That was beginning to be an annoying answer. Their eyes narrowed but this time instead of pushing the threat of a weapon, Flash let the symbiote have a bit of fun. Their mouth split open across their face, stretching into a wide grin of sharp teeth and a tongue that could taste the acrid hint of urine in the air as Jake whimpered and trembled harder in their grip. " **Tell us who and maybe we won't rip your face from your head."**

"Price! Lee P-Price! Please... Please g-god don't, d-don't--" 

Seemed like a solid lead to them. Flash pulled their form back to the blank mask of Agent Venom but it did nothing to calm down the terrified sobbing. That was probably all the useful information they were going to get. After a quick, controlled hit with the butt of their gun, they let Jake's unconscious body drop to the ground and briskly walked back towards the dilapidated storefront where Eddie had taken to hiding behind a spray painted pillar to watch the scene as closely as possible. His eyes were wide when he peeked out at them but for all the wariness in his gaze and posture, he didn't move an inch when they approached and held out the recorder to him. He just took it slowly and clicked it off before slipping it into his pocket.

"He mentioned Morgan." 

"I heard," Eddie answered. "Pretty sure that won't hold up as evidence in a court of law, though." 

Eddie was uncomfortable. 

Well yeah, no shit. Of course he was uncomfortable. Usually they were doing actual vigilante things. Shooting people who were shooting at them or making sure civilians were out of the way. Not casually terrorizing someone for information. 

But the way Eddie was looking at them wasn't fear. It was more of a cautious respect. Like someone watching a shark at the aquarium. Like he was starting to realize just what they were capable of but understood what it was being used for. Eddie was a very interesting guy. 

"Probably not, but it's enough for you to write an article about it, and that article might be enough to prompt a full-scale investigation against Morgan and the SFPD. It's your story, Eddie. Make it good enough to get people talking. That's what you're good at, right?" 

Eddie smile looked a little grim but as far as they could tell, it was an actual smile. "Yeah, I guess so. Hope you don't mind, I got a few pictures. They're a little grainy and hard to see, but..." 

The shrugged and wrapped an arm around Eddie's shoulders, gently pulling him away from the pillar and off towards the empty street. Surprisingly, Eddie went willingly and without hesitation. "You already have my voice on the recording, might as well have a picture of me shaking down the guy to match. Just one condition... You call this in to the police and you let me walk you home."

It was less that surprising how easily Eddie agreed.

 

* * *

 

"I'm serious!" Eddie laughed as Flash shot him a  _highly_  skeptical look. "I had a whole notebook of poetry that could put the Vogon's to shame." The highly skeptical look grew even more skeptical until Eddie ruined Flash's concentration by throwing a potato chip at him and hitting him in the cheek. "It was high school, I was a factory of angst and abandonment issues. Just because I have a flawless command of the English language now doesn't mean I always did." 

So far they had made it as far as Vogon poetry and there was no risk of anyone falling asleep. In fact, the whole date had been incredibly... Nice. A little awkward to start out, maybe. Like in the cafe, like during their first date, Flash was a hard to open up at first. Eddie had come to realize it was nerves and some jokes and a bit of laughing did wonders to melt that away. 

It was hard to believe that several days ago he was watching Agent Venom literally make a man piss himself with fear and now he was sitting on the couch with a sweetest guy in the city, throwing a potato chips at him for not believing that Eddie wasn't always an award-winning writer. 

"Oh, high school?" Flash shot back, swiping the chip from where it had fallen on his lap and popping it into his mouth. "Dude, everyone sucked at writing in high school, that doesn't count." 

"You're saying that you sucked at writing in high school too?" 

Flash laughed, light and easy as he rolled his eyes. It was a really nice sound. The kind that made Eddie instinctively smile in response. "I still suck at writing. But..." He grew thoughtful. "There was one time I had to write a haiku for my English class and I was actually pretty proud of how it turned out. Let's see... If I remember it was something like...  _Endless fields of green. Enemies blocking my every path. By my might, I shove through._ " 

Eddie pursed his lips to keep from outright laughing. "That's, uh. That's good, yeah. Not a haiku, but it's got feeling. It's just definitely not a haiku." 

"That explains why I didn't pass  _that_  assignment." 

The one thing Eddie was staring to adore was how easy Flash could say things like that. There was no self-deprecation in his tone, no embarrassment or shame. He didn't seem put off by something that other people would consider a shortcoming. Sure, Flash had shown that there were things that did embarrass him and he seemed to have a much self-doubt as anyone else, but every time Flash laughed at himself so fondly, Eddie kind of melted. 

Flash glanced away from the TV and caught Eddie staring, his lips curving up at the corners in a teasing,  _very_  appealing way. "What?" 

"Nothing." Eddie didn't bother trying to make that sound believable since the next second he was leaning over to cup the back of Flash's neck and pull him into a soft, warm kiss. He fully expected the second of surprised tension and the slight hesitation. After all, there hadn't been any warning and this was their first kiss. He probably should have asked but in his defense, Flash's lips had just look too tempting  _not_  to kiss. Luckily, the tension mostly slipped away and after a long few seconds, he was leaning into Eddie and that was that. 

Kissing Flash was damn nice. Eddie was a little rusty, Flash seemed hesitant, but it was nice. Soft and slow but dragging on as Eddie caught Flash's bottom lip between his and immediately went back for more. By the time they pulled away, they were both flushed and Flash was gripping Eddie's shirt sleeve, looking stunned and adorable with his hair all mussed up. Eddie grinned brightly and gave him another innocent peck. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself." 

"Uh... Yeah. No. That's-- Totally fine." He blinked back into reality with a little grin of his own, reaching up with both hands to cup Eddie's jaw and brush thumbs along the stubble there. "Do you ever shave all this off?" 

Oh? Eddie rose his brows. "Not usually. Do you want me to?" 

"No!" The hasty answer took them both by surprise and Flash chuckled awkwardly as he pulled away and settled back on the couch. "No, it's fine. You're good." 

All signs pointed to Flash liking his stubble, it was pretty obvious. But... Hard to be certain. Better test that theory just to make  _absolutely_  sure of it. Eddie pulled Flash back in, this time pressing his face into the crook of the man's neck and nuzzling. The undignified noise of surprise Flash made quickly turned into laughs as he halfheartedly pushed on Eddie's shoulder. "What are you-- H-Hey, knock it off, that tickles!" 

"Mmm, sorry, what was that? I'm just testing a theory." 

Flash's flailing and Eddie's pushing eventually overbalanced them and Eddie ended up landing on top of the guy, both of them laughing themselves breathless at their own stupidity.

 

* * *

 

No matter how often he found himself here, it always made Eddie nervous. Maybe it was just the lack of anything to do besides wait and fidget and listen to the riffle of paper. Maybe it was some childhood trauma coming back to haunt him with memories of sitting in the principal's office, waiting to hear if they would need to call his dad for whatever new shit he had pulled that day. Just some deeply ingrained discomfort with sitting across the desk from someone in a position of power while they read through papers. 

Eddie immediately turned his attention back to Mary as she lowered the article to stare at him over the rim of her glasses. "This is... Big. You realize that, don't you?" 

"Yeah," he answered. "Yeah, I know." 

She looked back at the printout of his article and slowly shook her head. "I try to avoid publishing something like this, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't have any problem making waves but if the evidence wouldn't hold up in a court of law, it shouldn't be published either. And no matter how you look at it, that was a forced confession." She fixed him with a stare. "You said you weren't expecting Agent Venom to show up?" 

Eddie's stomach sank but he kept his face carefully neutral as he shook his head. "I waited out there for a good three hours until Henderson went to take a bathroom break so I could hide the recorder under his van. Agent Venom must have seen it there, he pulled it out and started interrogating the guy. To be honest, it was kind of terrifying." 

Mary nodded, her eyes going to the pictures next. The ladies in the imaging department did a good job blowing them up without decreasing the quality. They had already been dark and grainy but Agent Venom's silhouette was easy to recognize and you could see that he had someone matching Henderson's height and body type pressed up against the van. 

"He's a vigilante for sure but he's no reporter," Mary muttered. "Too many leading questions. Anyone under that kind of pressure would say whatever they thought he wanted in order to get away. It feels staged." Shit. "If any other writer on my floor came to me with this, it would get thrown in the trash. But..." Eddie perked up. But? She neatly stacked the article and pictures before crossing her arms on her desk and meeting his eyes. "I like the way you framed it in the article, Brock. You weren't treating the information like it was a fact just because someone else said it, you were asking the readers to question the information and make their own judgments. This wasn't a call to burn down Morgan's house and turn against the police, it was a call to open up investigations and find the truth. Half of my other writers would have treated this like a wildfire. You realized that it's just a spark." She leaned back and gestured to him, looking vaguely impressed. "And I hired you because you know the wildfire isn't the article, it's the response, and you know exactly how to fan a spark until you get that response. We'll publish tomorrow."

After the meeting with Mary, Eddie couldn't stop grinning. It was the win he needed, finally. Maybe it wasn't the article that would erase his past but knowing he had someone in his corner who believed he was not only worth the risk of hiring but also publishing controversial pieces full of circumstantial evidence? That was nice. 

He was still smiling as he gave Andi a quick wave and slid into the chair across from Flash, who glanced up at him and immediately raised his brows. "Someone clearly had a good day. How'd the meeting with your editor go?" 

"She's publishing my article tomorrow," Eddie announced triumphantly. He leaned over the table, trying to keep his voice low and private but the excitement definitely bled through. "It's a risk on her end but she really thinks it's going to make a different. I won't bore you with the details but it's kind of a big deal, what's going on right now, and the fact that it's getting out there is... It's great. I really needed this. I  _feel_  great." 

Flash was leaning in too and the pride in his smile was so damn sweet. "That's great, Eddie! You deserve it. And please, if you ever want to bore me with the details of something, go for it. Seriously." 

When was the last time he had smiled this much? God, he had been probably still been with Annie at the time. "We should celebrate. What do you say to grabbing drinks with me tonight? I know this great bar near my place, when can crash there afterwards." He reached and put his hand over Flash's, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

In an instant, Flash's smile was slipping, his shoulders tensing as his eyes did a quick, nervous sweep of the room and the couple of other people occupying tables. Before Eddie could ask what was wrong, Flash forced the smile back and gently extracted his hand out from under Eddie's so he could pick at his croissant. "I, uh. I actually don't drink." 

"Oh. That's fine." Eddie shrugged, feeling awkward as he pulled his hand back onto his side of the table. "I won't push anything. You can order a soda, it's no big deal." Was that what all the tension and nerves had been about? 

The way Flash's smile relaxed and he rolled his eyes when he admitted, "No, I mean I'm a recovering alcoholic. I try to avoid the bar scene," seemed too casual to be the cause of any tension. 

Eddie pushed it aside to think about later. He wasn't sure how to ask Flash now and he really didn't want to push anything if Flash wasn't willing to talk about it. So instead he nodded and shot the guy an understanding smile. "Then we'll skip the bar. Maybe grab a milkshake instead? Just don't go snooping around my fridge when you come over."

All the discomfort was gone when Flash laughed and held up his hands in surrender. "No snooping in the fridge, got it. Milkshakes do sound great, though."

 

* * *

 

Weapons weren't the only thing hitting the streets in surplus nowadays. 

While some of the territory battles between gangs had settled down, Agent Venom was catching wind of a new trend that was starting to become more prevalent. Within the past week, they had come across several bodies tucked away in dark allies. Homeless, curled behind dumpsters or tucked into stacked up cardboard box houses. The first couple of times, he relied on the symbiote's senses to tell him what had happened but by the third he didn't need extra senses to guess that it was an overdose.

They tracked down sellers. There weren't many but they had a pretty extensive supply and the couple that they managed to deliver to the cops--literally right on the doorstep with heroin packets still in their pockets--were usually released within 24 hours and were back out there, passing off their drugs. 

It seemed like every time they turned around, they were finding the stupid little packets, all of them stamped with the outline of a cat head with Xs for eyes. 

Heroin wasn't new on the street, they came across it every so often, but this was the first time they were seeing it all from the same supplier and in such frequency. It was everywhere in flophouses, prevalent around the local gangs, and distressingly common in the places under overpasses and around the parks that were hosts to communities of the homeless. 

Every time they tracked down a production house, they were given the same name. 

Lee Price. 

And every time they burned the damn places to the ground, it seemed like two more popped up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are hard when certain people are unwilling to talk about their problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dumb ass just realized I could reply to comments holy shit. Expect me to do that because I'm a hoe for any chance to attempt some witty reply that will most likely fall short of everyone's expectations.
> 
> I would also like to note that mindful meditation can actually be super helpful when it's given the chance and used with other treatment methods as necessary. Plus everyone's brain works differently so everyone has different meditation styles that work for them.
> 
> This chapter officially makes this story my longest on here and I'm not even done yet. Another 10K and it will be the longest thing I've written. In a very, very short amount of time. Why couldn't I pull this shit during November?

Mindful meditation. 

When Flash had first been confronted with the phrase, it was during his first therapy appointment after losing his legs. He had still been in the hospital so the woman had to sit in with him instead of him coming to her. She asked if he felt anxious about his future. He said that he felt numb. She asked what usually went through his mind. He said a lot. She asked if his thoughts often repeated themselves or felt like they were circling. He said it was like a drain, they just kept pulling him down. She pointed out that it sounded a lot like anxiety and he shrugged and told her that it was just his everyday life. 

She left him with an info sheet on how to properly meditate and told him that he should try for ten minutes a day. He threw it in the trash with the disgusting pudding cup that came with his midday meal. 

They talked about it often after that. Or rather, she did. Spoke of all the benefits. Whenever he told her it sounded like bullshit and he could never get his head to shut up, she said it wasn't about that. It was about training his mind to recognize when it was loud and how to quiet it down. The point wasn't silence, the point was to be silent, mess up and think about things, and then gently pull back towards the silence. Meditating was just practicing the art of that pulling back towards the silence when things got too loud so he could do it easier throughout day to day life. 

Still sounded like bullshit. 

After a month or so she finally asked him if there was any point during the week where he had felt like his mind was quiet and Flash had surprised himself when he realized it was during physical therapy. 

Mindful meditation came up again when he joined up with the program that brought him into contact with his symbiote. Only there, they wanted him to use that silence to silence not just his own mind, but the mind of another sentient creature. They told him it was angry and violent, that it would feed on his anger and his violent thoughts if he didn't carefully control that part of himself. If he didn't control it, the symbiote would. If the symbiote took control, they had a choice to make. His life, or the countless other lives he might endanger. 

They made sure understood that it wasn't actually a choice.

They gave him breathing exercises and made him listen to hour-long guided meditations. Flash usually spent the entire hour wondering if listening to this guy's voice was actually doing anything or if he just looked like an idiot. The CD would tell him to imagine himself flying across a peaceful field and the only thing Flash could see was him nose-diving into the dirt to end his boredom. 

At the same time, they had him on a pretty strict physical routine and during that, the only thing on his mind had been the number of reps he was on and the burn of his muscles. 

They monitored him out on the field. They were the only voice in his ear, the symbiote was silent and barely even a presence in his mind. Not unless something pissed him off, then he could feel it stirring while the people in his ear reminded him to take deep breaths and concentrate on the mission. 

He would. But the deep breaths never helped. What helped was when he turned his attention to the feeling of his feet against the ground with every step he took. The exertion in the calves he only had when he was suited up for a mission. The way his lungs burned when he strained and the feeling of air whistling past as he dropped, the tension and support when the string of symbiote matter snagged him and dropping turned to swinging. Nothing really hurt with the suit on but the sensations were enough to pull him away from the anger and once again silence the presence in his head.

Now he had that once a week. With the symbiote, it was necessary, just not for the reason his COs in that illegal military program had claimed. They needed to time to clear their heads, for things to be silent, for the symbiote to be forced from the tangled web of its host's thoughts. Without that time and mutual separation, individual identity started to blur. The symbiote would start agreeing more, would support without argument, would reflect back whatever was going on Flash's head. It became an echo chamber and when Flash had someone telling him that his decisions, thoughts, and feelings were fine and needed no further looking-at, it stagnated any of his attempts at self-improvement. 

They were partners. They both had different needs and different ways of helping each other, and one of Flash's ways was to make sure his spiraling thoughts didn't corrupt and twist his friend into something it wasn't, even if that something was sometimes easier to deal with. 

Saturday mornings were designated time for this, when he would strap on his running blades and let his mind blur while he ran on the treadmill. Then strength training and yoga. It all added up to a few hours of silence from both him and the symbiote. 

The knock on his door thirty minutes into his run nearly scared the shit out of him, too used to having a warning when someone was approaching his apartment. Not that he ever had many visitors in the first place. "Be right there!" Please don't let it be a spiritual group stopping by to tell him about the joys of Jesus or Jehovah or whoever. The symbiote was slow to tune back in, a sleepy presence at the back of his mind but aware enough to let him know it was only one person. 

Flash stretched before heading for the door, his mood immediately brightening when it was Eddie. Eddie with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. 

Who looked comically shocked and almost terrified when he had to  _lift_  his gaze to see Flash's face. It was a very similar expression a kid might make the very second they were pushed from a swing. Like the ground had just crumbled under him. Then he looked down, saw curved carbon steel instead of legs, and leaned against in the door frame with a relieved huff. "Right. Prosthetics. You mentioned those. God, that scared the shit out of me." 

The symbiote's rumbling laugh echoed through his head and Flash spread his arms with a grin. "It's a miracle, I can walk. What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, uh..." He straightened up, sheepishly offering up the flowers. "I mean... I didn't come only to bring you flowers. I just wanted to stop by but I passed by a place selling flowers and figured, what the hell?" 

No one had ever bought him flowers before. It was such a stupid, little thing to bring him so much joy but out of all the girlfriends he had bought similar bouquets for, the gesture had never been returned. Not that he expected it to, of course. He was the guy, guys gave their girlfriends flowers, that's just how life worked. Or so he thought. Eddie made it very difficult for Flash to remember why he had felt so suspicious and wary around the guy at first. He took the flowers carefully, sincerely touched by the gesture. 

Then he was brought back to the present by Eddie's concerned, "What have you been up to? You're covered in sweat." 

It reminded Flash that he had a physical body. Fifteen minutes into his routine, everything became sensations instead of individual things like a pain in his thighs or soreness in his hips. Now he existed and he was indeed covered in sweet and also dressed in a loose Army tee and black boxer briefs. Hoping he wasn't as red as he felt, he stepped aside to let Eddie in with mumbled, "Oh geez, yeah, sorry, um. I was just working out." The flowers gave him a good excuse to immediately busy himself in the kitchen area, looking for something to put them in.

"Oh hey, yeah. The treadmill makes sense now." 

Flash scoffed softly.

**Eddie is staring.**

Thanks. Not helping. Neither was the smug way the symbiote let him sense Eddie's expression and exactly where his eyes were lingering. Cool, thanks buddy. Flash had nothing to put the flowers in besides a football shaped cookie jar Andi had presented him with before graduating so you know what, that was going to be a vase now. He put some water in it and set it in the center of his counter with the lid sitting next to it, finding himself strangely proud. 

It sure did make the space seem a little more homey. 

Now that Eddie couldn't stare without getting caught, he was snickering at the flowers. "That's pretty cute. So, um..." 

Flash didn't catch on to the hesitation at first, too busy grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge but Eddie didn't continue by the time he took a long drink and leaned back against the counter. He looked liked he was trying to find words for something and Flash raised his brow. "You good there, Eddie?" 

"Yeah, I'm just... Not used to wondering if a question is too uncomfortable or inappropriate to ask." An apologetic grimace crossed Eddie's face, like the idea of censoring his questions caused him physical pain, and Flash had to laugh. 

"Just ask, man. I can promise you I've heard every uncomfortable question about my legs there is to ask." 

Right answer. Eddie's relief was short lived and quickly replaced with an endearing curiosity that Flash kind of adored as he leaned over the kitchen island. "How come you don't wear those all the time? Seems a little more mobile than your wheelchair." 

A question that was absolutely expected. Flash joined him at the island, facing him from the other side. "More mobile, yeah, but they're not exactly comfortable. Some people can tolerate wearing them all day without a problem but eventually I get annoyed with sweat in the cuff. Putting pressure down on the bottom my thighs makes them sore, too. And since they don't have a hinge to mimic a knee joint, the way I have to walk strains my hips. I use them sometimes but if I'm going to be out all day, like for work or whatever, it's easier to just take the chair so I don't have to force myself to be uncomfortable towards the end of the day."

"Oh." It looked like that had never crossed Eddie's mind, and it probably hadn't. It didn't for most people. He glanced back at the treadmill. "And, um. I guess the running thing is because you like to?" 

"And because running works out more muscles than just the ones I don't have in my not-legs." Flash sent Eddie a gently amused look. "I still have to keep the muscles functioning in what I have left of my thighs to use the prosthetics. If I just sit in the chair, they atrophy, and as someone who went through extensive physical therapy, I would rather have a good workout routine than go through PT again." 

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off Flash in a way that was strangely nice. The conversation didn't feel awkward and Eddie didn't seem uncomfortable with the topic. "You know... Back when I had my show I did an episode about disabled vets." Flash kept his expression carefully neutral as he listened. "I interviewed a lot of ones who couldn't get prosethtics and I asked the ones that had them how hard they had to fight the insurance and disability programs to get them, but I never thought to ask about what they were like. I guess it's not as easy as strapping them on and suddenly it's like you have legs again, huh?" 

God bless Eddie Brock and his empathy. 

"No, it's not." 

**It could be.**

And that was true. For him, it could be. The symbiote understood why Flash couldn't just walk out of his apartment with a new set of legs but it had a harder time understanding why Flash never let it make the prosthetics more comfortable or make him functional legs that looked like prosthetics. It didn't understand why Flash used his chair when they were alone in the apartment. Why he slept on the couch instead of the bed when he could use the symbiote's help when it came to wrestling the sheets on and off for the wash. Flash's entire apartment was set up for a disabled man, as much as a standard apartment could be. Everything was stored down low besides the few light, plastic items that Flash could grab with an extender claw he kept on the counter. The mirror in the bathroom was tilted so he could see. There were handles around the toilet and shower, with a seat in there for him to transition to, a lower shower head, a mirror for easy shaving, and his toothbrush. 

With the symbiote, none of it was necessary. 

He needed to keep up appearances, though. It kept people from getting suspicious. 

But mostly it was just a matter of pride. That Army program emphasized how easy it was to become dependent on the symbiote and he felt that after every mission when they were forced apart and he mourned the loss of his freedom until his next hit. He knew what it felt like to be an addict, to be helpless, and living like this made him feel like he had his independence and autonomy. 

**Still seems dumb.**

Flash didn't bother answering, both because nothing he said would have mattered and because Eddie was rounding the kitchen island with a look on his face that had Flash blinking and turning to keep Eddie at his front. Hands found their way to his hips and he was being pressed back against the counter as Eddie leaned down to kiss him. 

Which was totally fine. 

Absolutely great, actually. 

There was hardly a pause before Flash was tangling his fingers through Eddie's hair and humming against his lips in time with the pleased rumble at the back of his head. 

Kissing Eddie was different from everyone else he had ever kissed. Part of it had to do with his body type. Flash tended to go for smaller, petite women. Even the female MMA fighter he a brief little stint with hadn't been as wide through the chest and shoulders. Eddie's hands were larger and his grip was tighter than most of Flash's past girlfriends. With the exception of the MMA fighter who had more strength to put behind it and went in with the intention of leaving bruises. The most noticeable difference and the one that Flash personally loved was the stubble. 

Previous girlfriends had thrown up complaints if Flash missed a day of shaving, something he could now say he didn't understand in the slightest. He loved the scratch of it, the slightly raw feeling when they kissed for awhile and Flash's skin was reddened from the scrap of it. It was very good and Eddie knew, which was why he broke the kiss after a few breathless minutes of it and trailed his lips down Flash's jaw to his throat, kissing and nipping at skin while purposely making sure there was as much contact with his stubble as possible. 

It made Flash's head spin and he tilted back his head with a soft groan as Eddie pressed more firmly against him. "Watch it... High school kids are vicious," he muttered. "All marks need to stay below the collar." 

Eddie chuckled against his skin and moved back up to kiss him again again, licking into his mouth and making it very hard for Flash to keep himself decent in his boxer-briefs. 

When he pulled back again, he gave Flash a very self-satisfied smile. "Sorry, you looked so deep in thought, I thought I should do something to pull you out of it. Looks like I did." 

Flash ducked his head sheepishly as he was called out, pressing a few chaste kisses of his own against Eddie's jaw. "Yeah, that happens a lot." 

"Mhm. I've noticed. But it's fine. I have a question, though. You've given me an idea." Flash pulled back to look at him with a curious hum. "How long can you wear those comfortably and be active in them? A couple hours?" 

"Uh... Yeah, couple hours would be no big deal. Five or six might even be fine." 

Whatever idea Eddie had, he looked excited about it. "Cool. Is your schedule open tomorrow?"

"It is now." Eddie beamed and leaned back in to kiss him again, lingering and warm. Flash laughed against his lips and cupped his cheeks to gently pull him back. " _But_  as fun as this is, my schedule is not free today." Eddie pouted and Flash smooshed his cheeks, unapologetic. "I need to finish my workout and plan the last little bit of syllabus for class before more angry PTA moms get on my case. But thank you for the flowers, Eddie. Really. They're lovely." 

For all of his pouting, Eddie took the hint gracefully and let Flash lead him to the door with only a faux-exasperated, " _Fine_ , I guess I can let you do that."

"That's good, because I wasn't really giving you much choice." 

Eddie stepped out into the hall with a chuckle and went to pull Flash in for another kiss. In the open hallway of the apartment complex. Where anyone leaving or coming home could see. Panic tightened through his chest and he turned his head at the last second, Eddie's lips pressing his against his jaw instead. 

The panic didn't go away but now it was because of the way Eddie pulled back with a slight frown. 

Flash tried to ease it with an awkward laugh and when that failed, he just shot Eddie a strained smile and a clipped, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow," as he stepped back into his apartment and shut the door. 

 

* * *

 

The workouts were usually nice. Flash enjoyed feeling the ache of his muscles and the full exertion so the symbiote didn't bother repairing things as they went or lending strength when it was needed. Within ten to fifteen minutes of running, Flash's mind started to quietly ravel itself into silence and with little else to concentrate on, the symbiote was left seemingly alone besides the sensations and biorhythms of its host. 

Before Flash and after the Life Foundation, people had wanted to make it into a weapon. It had been angry and... Scared, admittedly. The others had died, their leader abandoned them, it was alone on an alien planet being poked, prodded, starved, and forced into useless host after useless host. If they wanted a weapon, it had certainly shown them one. Every incident of violence made them more careful until finally the goal was to silence its anger with drugs and distance it from the thoughts and feelings of its host. 

Back then, the feeling of being alone within a host had been alienating and upsetting. Unless there was a strong surge of emotion that was close enough to its own for it to latch onto and claw its way, drugged and disoriented, to its host's consciousness, it couldn't bridge the gap and communicate. It couldn't tell what the host was thinking or feeling. Everything was so muddy and dim and it was so, so angry at them for doing that to it. 

The feeling of the silence now was the same, but different, because there were no drugs besides the ones Flash's brain produced as a byproduct of the activity and quietness, and because it trusted Flash not to wall it off and try to keep it docile and silent. The silence was a time for it to gorge itself on the delicious chemicals its host was producing, to lose itself in the steady biorhythms it had come to cherish, and to look forward to the calm clarity of Flash's thoughts when he was done. 

That's what the workouts were mainly for. A way for its host to relax. 

A visit from Eddie should have helped, since Eddie was also a way for its host to relax. 

Instead Flash was sitting in the warm spray of the shower after his workout, face buried in his hands and the water hitting his shoulders doing very little to ease the knots of stress in his muscles. 

**You didn't offend Eddie.**

"I know," Flash muttered.

**You've come very far, accepting affection from him at home. Just takes time. You'll be more comfortable with it eventually.**

"I know," Flash repeated. Same tone. Same inflection. Listening but not believing.

He was still a bundle of stress. About Eddie. About himself. About them. About Lee Price. About the weapons and the drugs and finishing his syllabus. There was an underlying frustration pent up within him that the symbiote desperately wanted to take away, it just didn't know how, because Flash didn't know how, and humans were complicated and confusing. 

But they did have many, many ways of relieving stress and if one didn't work, others might. 

**Maybe you should have some personal time.**

Embarrassment and shame pulsed through Flash's mind, which was hardly unusual and went ignored by the both of them. The appeal was stronger anyway and after a moment of thought Flash sighed and sat back, letting the water hit his chest. "Yeah, actually. Probably. Thanks, buddy." 

Humans were strange and often ashamed of how their minds and bodies worked. Flash didn't feel uncomfortable when he was kissing and pressing against Eddie and the symbiote was there, making itself known. But when he was alone and trying to find release, the symbiote's presence made him incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't an unreasonable creature, though. Humans had spent their entire lives with the lonely existence of only having themselves in their head. They weren't used to sharing. Leaving Flash completely was impossible but as a compromise, the symbiote stayed as unnoticeable as possible and they didn't discuss the events that happened during Flash's personal time. 

Which was dumb, because personal time was pretty nice and the symbiote had absolutely no complaints about it and about a million compliments but again, it wasn't an unreasonable creature. 

It settled down and Flash went through his usual things, letting his eyes close as his hand dropped down to their cock to give it a couple slow strokes while his mind wandered. The first subject it brushed on was Eddie, but that was pushed aside and was replaced with women. Faceless, nameless bodies that Flash had no attachment to at first, and then they started taking the form of one that Flash had memories of. Betty, who was softly cherished in Flash's mind but the memories of her were all tinted by regret. Probably why they weren't there for long before moving on to Val, who had liked to hold Flash down and murmur exciting things into his ear about how turned on he was and what she wanted to do with him. Or what she wanted him to do. 

Those memories got a reaction and soon they were less memories and more fantasies of things Flash wished she had done. They were getting hard, cock stiffening in Flash's grip as his breaths deepened with their arousal, but-- 

Eddie was so much more exciting. 

The symbiote pushed, just a bit, a few little tweaks to replace Val with Eddie. Eddie holding them down, whispering into their ear. Pressed against them like before, in the kitchen. 

Flash let out a breathless huff as his cock twitched but still he tried to fight it, tried to push Val back into his thoughts, but the symbiote held firm. There was a bubble of frustration and then realization that had Flash pausing. "What are you doing?" 

Caught. 

 **We like Eddie.**   **Why don't you think of him?**

Flash sighed, exasperation trying to cover up the shame, embarrassment, and discomfort. "It's not personal time if you're messing with my head, okay? And stop looking at who I think of when I touch myself. Yes, we like Eddie. But I'm doing this for me, not us." 

It didn't like that answer much. It was for them, whether Flash was willing to accept it or not. They both felt it. They both enjoyed it. 

**You like Eddie. You find him attractive and exciting, you just have trouble letting yourself think of that. I can help.**

"No, buddy. Seriously." Flash drug a hand up his face to push his wet hair back on his forehead. "I don't want to think of Eddie while I'm doing this."

That was a lie. The symbiote could feel it. Flash wanted to think of Eddie, Flash desperately wanted to think of Eddie, but it was surrounded by all of these feelings of fear and wrongness put there by other people. And an expectation of pain that was uncomfortable for the symbiote to think of Flash having. But the want was there. It could feel the want. 

It wanted too. Flash didn't understand that.

**Let me help.**

Before Flash could protest again, the symbiote pushed out of his skin, seeping through cells and pores and webbing itself down Flash's arm until the arm was theirs, though the pointed claws on the end of their fingers made it clear who was in control. Flash was too stunned to fight it for that control and it took advantage of that. It pushed out over his shoulders and webbed gently across the front of his thighs in the hopes of relaxing him. The symbiote didn't dare question any boundary that didn't want to be questioned. It knew better. With control of their hand, the most it did was gently glide the tip of his claws across Flash's stomach, the littlest finger just below his navel.

The sensation made them shiver. Made their breath catch audibly in Flash's throat, made their muscles quiver under the touch, made their heart pound, and it made Flash think about how easily those claws could rip him open and though they never would (Flash knew that) the reminder made sparks dance along their spine. 

The symbiote repeated the gesture, this time pressing in hard enough to draw faint red lines, and Flash tilted his head back with a low, shaky noise that had built in the back of his throat. He felt lost despite knowing where he was. Felt confused despite knowing what was going on. Felt shaky and scared and  _excited_.

 **Let me help, Flash.**  It was gentler this time, as if that might convince the human. 

Almost. "Why?" 

The symbiote paused. It couldn't remember a time Flash's voice had ever sounded so small and fragile when saying something towards it. Didn't matter. It gently rubbed its thumb against their skin, letting Flash catch his breath and work himself down.  **Because I want to.**

"This is your first time mentioning it." There, that was how it was used to Flash's voice. Firmer, more direct. Maybe even a little accusatory. 

**Wasn't important.**

Another tangle of emotions that was hard to identify but admittedly, it didn't try very hard. Not when Flash was raising the hand that was still his and brushing his fingertips across the symbiote. "It kind of is." 

After a second of contemplation, the symbiote conceded, **Maybe a little bit.**

Flash sighed and closed their eyes. "You really need to start telling me when you want something." 

**Want this.**

A hesitation. Only because of that lingering doubt, fear, wrongness, expectation of pain, then a quietly exasperated, "Alright." As if he was giving in to placate the symbiote. As if he didn't want it just as much.

Thrilled with the permission in a way Flash could feel shiver down their spine, the symbiote moved to wrap its hand carefully around their cock and slowly stroke the same way Flash had been previously. Only it felt different now. It wasn't Flash's hand, it was theirs, it was bigger, the sensation wasn't skin but something alien to Flash's brain and that was exciting. He clutched at the metal rail and leaned himself back with a short groan, thighs spreading and pleasure licking through them. 

The symbiote regretted not asking sooner, this was much better than letting Flash do it himself. 

It knew what Flash liked, how he liked to be touched and stroked, squeezing at the tip and slowly dragging down, letting its thumb linger at the slit. It didn't take long before they were fully hard and Flash was panting out breathless sounds of pleasure, each reaction fascinating to the symbiote. 

With Flash's guard down, it pushed a thought of Eddie touching them like this and Flash's hips jerked up with choked noise a flood of warm desire that made the symbiote tremble where it was manifested. Delicious. It wanted more. It's hand spend up and it pushed more thoughts of Eddie. Of his lips and his voice and the soft sounds Eddie sometimes made when kissing them. Flash took them and did what humans did best. He imagined those lips against their skin, the warmth of Eddie's breath, what his voice would sound like ragged and breathless and moaning Flash's name. 

Flash didn't have the leverage to easily fuck into the symbiote's hand like he wanted but feeling him squirm as he tried was very nice. The symbiote hummed in approval, a sound that traveled through it and made Flash bite back a sharp, "Sh-Shit!" They were close, so close. Only a little more and the symbiote knew how to tip the balance. Like Val. Tendrils spread up from the back of their neck, winding up through Flash's hair, soft enough to tickle while a thicker tendril snaked around their throat. The one's in their hair tightened, the one on their throat applied just a slight bit of pressure, and Flash was tipped over the edge with a shuddering cry. 

For the duration of it, the symbiote could only experience and share the pleasure that washed through them in a wave. When it faded and Flash slumped, relaxed and pliant, the symbiote sunk back into his skin to enjoy the aftershock of chemicals. They were now relaxed, much less stressed, and a little bit sleepy. 

**Told you.**

 

* * *

 

Paintball had been an awful idea. 

Okay, not an  _awful_  idea, per se. Eddie had been wanting to give it a shot ever since he heard about the range popping up on the east side of the city, Anne had just been too busy to go with him and after she was gone, Eddie was too busy trying to fix his life to bother finding someone else to go with. It seemed like the kind of thing Flash would enjoy, though, and seeing the competitive gleam in his eyes when the Uber pulled up outside the building made it worth all the pain. 

And there was a lot of pain. 

Eddie hadn't been  _bad_. Actually, he was pretty proud of himself for how well he had done since he had never held or a fired a gun outside of a video game in his life. His team might have won if Flash hadn't insisted on joining the opposing side. 

From there, Flash had apparently made it his mission to completely annihilate Eddie. 

He should have known, he really should have. Flash was sports guy. Star quarterback in high school. A military guy. Of course he would take an insane amount of glee from paintball. 

And Flash really took an insane amount of glee from it. By the end, Eddie had been absolutely covered in blue paint and Flash only had a single spot of red on his chest because they had been facing each other down when time was called and Eddie was a vindictive bastard that shot him after he lowered his weapon. Totally worth it, too. 

By the time they snagged lunch and started walking home, Flash was still grinning and Eddie was starting to feel just how sore he was going to be the next day. Equipment was heavy and getting hit by those paint pellets  _hurt_. If he didn't have bruises everywhere, it would be a miracle.

Flash glanced over at him with a soft, teasing smirk. "You look a little worn out there, Eddie. We can always call an Uber."

God. What a wonderful asshole. Eddie huffed and shot him a pursued look, trying in vain to not crack a smile. "Says the guy who's been running around on prosthetics for the last five hours. Shouldn't I be the one fussing over you?" 

"Me? Nah. I'm doing great." As if to prove it, Flash turned around and jogged backwards a few steps in front of Eddie, thankfully turning around right before he ran into someone. It was close enough that he still gave a hasty apology to the startled girl on her phone before falling into pace next to Eddie again, chuckling. "Maybe I should carry you the rest of the way?" 

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly. "Going for best boyfriend points, I see. As you should be, considering how many times you  _shot_  me today." 

It was hard to tell if the way Flash's grin widened was from the boyfriend thing or just Eddie's teasing in general, but at least he didn't look put off by the title and that was going to be a win his books. "Not my fault you make an easy target, man. I just take the opportunity when it presents itself." 

The easy bantering fell into an equally easy silence and when their hands brushed while they walked, Eddie took the opportunity to wrap his fingers around Flash's hand and give it a squeeze. He was hopefully for all of a minute when he glanced over and Flash didn't seem tense and uncomfortable, but then the man was drawing out a, "So..." as he pulled his hand away from Eddie's to make a vague gesture with it. "That was fun. We should definitely do it again sometime. The more you do it, the better you'll get, you know? I can play your team next time and show you how to actually aim when you're not standing still, pointblank, with an enemy that's given up." Flash's hands were then shoved in the pockets of his rolled up jeans. 

Eddie tried not to think of it as a rejection. "Yeah, definitely. That way the next time you're on the opposite team, maybe I can get more than a dot on you." At least Flash didn't look uncomfortable when Eddie added a teasing, "You know, when I think about you leaving bruises all over my body, this isn't  _quite_  what I imagine." He just laughed, looking happy and carefree in a way that pushed the feeling of rejection from Eddie's mind entirely. Or at least mostly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a reporter lands a troubling scoop, two humans and an alien try and fail to figure out what's going on in the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is so much inconsistency in the comics surrounding what the symbiotes are like, and then trying to make it match up with how the movie implies what the symbiotes are like. I did my best. The issue of comic consistency also comes up with some other things. Call me old school, but I like Lethal Protector WAY more than what Cates has been writing so trust that I'm probably going to lean more towards that.

["Shining Starz Talent Agency" Investigation -- Anonymous Primary Source Interview]  
[Audio Transcript]

 **Reporter:**  Alright, that should be good. So-- Hey, man, no need to look so nervous. Is this your first time coming to a reporter?

 **Anonymous:**  Uh, yeah... I never thought I would have to. 

 **Reporter:**  Most people don't. Lucky for you, you've already done the hard part by coming to me. The rest is easy. You're just going to answer some questions for me and then let me do the rest, okay? You're doing the right thing. 

 **Anonymous:** I know.

 **Reporter:**  Are we good to start?

 **Anonymous:**  Yeah, sorry. Thanks.

 **Reporter:**  No problem. I know it's a little nerve-wrecking when the recorder comes out. We'll start easy. Why don't you tell me about the company you work for and what they do?

 **Anonymous:**  Right, um. I worked for the Shining Starz Talent Agency office. The branch downtown, specifically. Basically they have scouts that go out to local events and try to sign people up if they're interested in becoming a model or an actor. On a base level, they get calls to let them know about local auditions, casting calls, things like that, but the main goal is to push them towards... Uh. Taking control of their opportunities, is how they tell us to phrase it. Basically they want to push their own services. The agency will have directors and people in the fashion industry contact them looking for local talent and they'll be directed to a database of people willing to come in and pay for headshots or small sample clips. So instead of the talent going to find a job, the job comes to find the talent. They call people to update their pictures and clips every three months, and of course the talent has to pay for that. They market it like you have a huge potential of getting called by Hollywood directors or Victoria Secret but really it's mostly commercials and stupid things. It's all really skeevy in general. But that's typical marketing, you know?

 **Reporter:**  Not unusual for the industry, yeah. And what do you do there? 

 **Anonymous:**  Did. I don't work there anymore. I quit yesterday.

 **Reporter:**  Right, sorry. What _did_ you do there?

 **Anonymous:**  I was the full time receptionist. It was my job to call people when they needed to come in and update a photoshoot. I scheduled all that with our photographers and camera people. I had to sell it. If they seemed hesitant on updating, I had to push the importance of it and try to downplay the cost. It's a lot like gambling. I had to make them feel like they could win the role of a lifetime at any moment if they just stayed up on everything. 

 **Reporter:**  Even though you knew they wouldn't?

 **Anonymous:**  Exactly. They're just trying to squeeze money off of people who are looking to make it big and change their lives.

 **Reporter:**  Which... Yeah, is pretty shitty but unfortunately it's not illegal. I definitely appreciate you bringing this to me but I'm not sure if the I'm the journalist for this one. I only have a basic knowledge of how that all works but exploiting hopeful people that just want to change their lives is a big deal and it shouldn't be ignored. If you want, I can get you in contact with--

 **Anonymous:**  No, wait, hang on. That's not why I called you, Mr. Brock. The industry sucks but I worked in it for five years, I know me talking to a reporter isn't going to change anything. 

 **Reporter:**  Well. Not with that attitude. But alright, why did you call me, then? 

 **Anonymous:**  Because we've had talent turn up missing the last couple of weeks and I think my branch manager has something to do about it.

 **Reporter:**  Oh. Okay, that's... Yeah. Okay, let's continue. How did you notice people were missing?

 **Anonymous:**  We've always had certain people that are super into this. A handful that call us every week to update their acting clips and headshots. They just  _really_  want to get themselves out there and everyone around the branch knows them. They're frequent customers. Most of them are really sweet, all of them are girls in their lower twenties. My branch manager made a list of the most frequent ones and told me to let him know the next time they stop in because he wanted to talk to each of them personally. Which was weird because he never talks to talent directly but I didn't think much of it. Like, the head office is always having us do new things to attract more clients, I figured it was something like that. Especially when they left with some kind of leaflet, looking all excited when they were done talking to him. They were the first ones and they haven't been back since. 

 **Reporter:**  Okay, that's concerning. Has there been anyone else?

 **Anonymous:**  A few. Last week, the branch manager gave me a list of people who had signed up for updates about casting calls and such. Apparently he had the scouts make marks on the people signing up that they thought might be interested in our other services if we pushed a little bit. He wanted me to call them-- _not_  to try to push them towards our other services, but to schedule them for a meeting with him so he could try to push them. He thought it might be more convincing from the branch manager than just a receptionist. The whole thing just felt off to me and when I talked to the scouts, they said he never asked them to do that. So I started looking at the people he was calling. They all fill out little profile questionnaires, basic stuff to find out what their lifestyle is like so we can tailor the roles to their schedule. Or so they say, they don't actually do that. But everyone on the list he gave me were single girls in their twenties who had moved to San Francisco out of state for opportunity reasons. 

 **Reporter:**  Opportunity reasons as opposed to...?

 **Anonymous:**  As opposed to family, education, or career.

 **Reporter:**  In other words... They probably don't have relatives here. They might not be taking classes. And there's a good chance they're not working for a company that would be super concerned if they stopped showing up.

 **Anonymous:**  Exactly. The real thing that freaked me out was earlier this week, though. I read Fact Sheet all the time and I saw your article about Morgan paying off SFPD officers-- 

 **Reporter:**  Allegedly. They're still investigating. 

 **Anonymous:**  Sure.  _Allegedly_  paying off SFPD officers. But that's not the point. I listened to the recording of Agent Venom on the website out of curiosity and there was that other name mentioned. Lee Price?

 **Reporter:**  Yeah. It's a name that's been popping up in conjunction with several local gangs through the city but so far there haven't been any leads on  _who_  the guy actually is. Police have nothing on him.

 **Anonymous:**  Well yeah, but they're being paid off by Morgan. Sorry,  _allegedly_. 

 **Reporter:**  We can't turn against the police force over allegations. Not until there's a thorough investigation done. But I'm assuming there's a reason you mentioned the name?

 **Anonymous:**  Yeah. I think I met him.

 **Reporter:** You think? How?

 **Anonymous:**  Earlier this week a guy came into the agency asking to speak to the branch manager. He said they knew each other and to just let him know that Price was here. It's a common name, I wasn't very suspicious, and sure enough the branch manager seemed happy to see him. They talked for awhile and when he went to leave, I overheard the branch manager saying,  _Thank you, Lee. I won't let you down. Whatever you need from me._  

 **Reporter:**  Was that your first time seeing him come into the agency?

 **Anonymous:**  He's never come in before. I'm full time and I'm the only one that deals with visitors and scheduling. There have only been a handful of people outside of coworkers who have stopped in to meet with the branch manager and this guy wasn't one of them. I don't think it's a coincidence that people are going missing within a couple weeks of Lee Price walking into our office. 

 **Reporter:**  ...Probably not. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'm going to look into it but it's out of your hands now. Your next step is keeping your head down and forgetting about this, okay kid?

 **Anonymous:**  That's all I want to do, really. Thank you, Mr. Brock.

 

* * *

 

Eddie's kitchen table was covered with little torn scraps of notebook paper that they had been staring at in silent concentrate for fifteen minutes. The one at the center said LEE PRICE. Then others, surrounding it, had people or things. WEAPONS, SFPD, HEROIN, HUMAN TRAFFICKING, MARCUS MORGAN, MAYOR NEWMAN. Eddie had even listed out several gangs, cartels, and other human groups that caused trouble. 

It was supposed to be a map. 

Somehow. 

Lee Price was connected to the weapons, heroin, and human trafficking, along with some of the gangs and human groups. Morgan was connected to weapons, SFPD, Lee Price, and Newman. Newman was connected to only Morgan. The other cartels and human groups that weren't connected to Price were off to the side. 

And this was very boring and not at all helpful. 

Flash agreed on the last bit and they gestured towards the paper scraps, breaking the silence. "What exactly is this supposed to be helping us with, Eddie?" 

Eddie sighed and tossed his hands up with a shrug. "I don't know, man. Sometimes sorting everything out into physical information helps you realize things you didn't know before. We have a city-wide conspiracy going on here and between two humans and an alien, we have no idea what's going on."

"We have some idea," they corrected, reaching forward to fiddle with the little scrap that said LEE PRICE. "This guy, whoever he is, is currently the hottest topic in the criminal underworld and he's taking over everything." 

"Somehow," Eddie muttered. "The bastard practically appeared overnight and it looks like Marcus was funding his startup. Or at least arming his guys. We know that so far he's consolidated most of the local gangs under him, armed them to the fucking teeth, and he's been using that to push out all competition on his quickly growing heroin startup and his up-and-coming trafficking ring. Which... I hate to admit, but it's actually pretty impressive." 

Impressive? No, the symbiote didn't like that. Eddie wasn't supposed to find some awful human impressive, he was supposed to find  _them_  impressive. It was just all the more reason to dislike this particular man. Flash found the symbiote's annoyance to be humorous and sent gentle waves of reassurance to it, reminding it that Eddie  _did_  find them impressive. 

"At least he should be pretty annoyed after Morgan's arrest," Flash had them add.

Eddie did not look convinced as he stared at the papers. "I don't think so, actually." He looked up when they tilted their head in a silent question. "You wouldn't happen to have any sources speaking up about his charges, would you, Agent?" 

"Can't say I do."

"I do. Or, uh. I know someone who has reliable sources in SFPD, which is pretty much the same thing." They weren't quite sure it was but they gestured for Eddie to explain. "The police haven't gone public with his charges yet, but if Morgan was arrested for paying off officers, then there should be arrests made in the SFPD too. Instead, after a laughably short investigation, they've declared that no officers were found accepting bribes. Sources are saying he was arrested for embezzling campaign funds and skimming money from the mayor. Newman hasn't made any statements yet. They're keeping the charges hush until the trial." 

This was more of a human thing. The symbiote understood very little of human things like trials and charges and the legal system. Flash had basic knowledge, though, enough where the information surprised him. "It's actually going to trial? I figured they would just get Morgan released like they've gotten the others off." 

Eddie's smile was less than pleased and very forced. "There's the kicker. There's not much evidence but there's charges and it's going to trial. Which means Morgan wasn't the one paying off the police. My money is going on Newman. Morgan was probably working under his instruction to set up weapons for Price. Still no idea what his motive is on that, but when shit came out about Morgan, it's in Newman's best interest to let him take the fall. It doesn't look great for Newman but they can twist it around so that he's the victim here and with Morgan arrested, the public is happy that action is being taken and they just assume the whole police bribery is being taken care of. By the time the official charges come out during the trial, no one's going to remember the reason they wanted him arrested in the first place."

"Morgan's a scapegoat." 

"A distraction," Eddie agreed with a shrug. "SFPD is still in the pocket of someone. Only a few of the guys you've been tossing their way are actually making it into cells and even though you're doing their job for them, they don't seem too pleased to have you around. It's possible Price is paying them off, but if he needed Morgan's help to get set up here, that's doubtful. We need to find out who this Price guy is and why Newman wants him running the streets. Might be easier if we start uncovering the corrupt cops working for them. We find evidence, we throw that in their faces, we win." 

That all sounded very complicated. 

They sat back in their seat, absently tapping their fingertips against the table, Flash deep in thought about everything Eddie had said. Eddie himself looked tired and after a few seconds of staring back at the paper slips, he stood. "I need a beer. You want one?" 

"No thanks." Eddie shrugged and went to fetch himself one.

While Flash contemplated, the symbiote watched Eddie.

**This is very boring. And we're hungry.**

It wasn't boring. It was something that needed to be figured out in order to keep the streets safe. The symbiote knew all that but none of the technical details interested it in the slightest. Flash placated it. "What else do you have?" 

Eddie cracked open his beer with a hum. "Uh... Food-wise or drinks?" 

Before Flash could answer for them, the symbiote had them answering, "Chocolate?" Its hopefulness was more endearing so Flash didn't bother halfheartedly scolding it. 

Eddie noticed nothing amiss and peeked into the kitchen closet with a frown. "I might have some leftover chocolate chips from the last time I made pancakes... Oh." He pulled out a box. "Hot chocolate?" 

They shrugged. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind."

"No problem. You know. My life. Just casually making hot chocolate for Agent Venom at three in the morning." 

Eddie was gracious enough to leave the box out on the counter as he went to make one of the packets. Flash was thinking and by this point, he was calm enough around Eddie that he didn't keep a close eye on what all parts of them were doing. The symbiote knew how to keep them secret and Flash trusted both it and Eddie to behave themselves. 

A little part of Flash also felt soft and warm whenever Eddie interacted with the symbiote. Which of course pleased it to no end because it also loved the attention from Eddie. So he bent rules a little bit and let the symbiote have its way even if previously he would have put a stop to any of its antics. 

When Eddie turned around with a mug of hot chocolate in his hand, the box of hot chocolate mix was sitting on the kitchen table instead of the counter, and they had their mouth stretched open and were pouring the contents of a third powder pouch into their gaping maw. Eddie froze. The symbiote froze. Then its tongue flicked up to snatch the paper packet into their mouth and snapped their teeth shut to swallow it down. 

Eddie must have been growing used to it because his response was merely a series of blinks before he continued to the table and set down the mug. "You know, just because you  _can_  eat something doesn't mean you  _should_. I'm sure the human in there doesn't appreciate hot chocolate mix poured down their throat. Or a wad of paper." He took a long sip of his beer before gesturing to the papers. "I feel like I've probably spent most of this brainstorming session talking to the Agent, so what's your opinion on all this, big guy? How would an alien like you approach the situation?" 

The symbiote's eyes curled at the thoughtfulness of being asked and it leaned towards the little slips of paper, studying them closely. Flash accused it of playing favorites since it had been disinterested in the little slips up until Eddie asked about them. It ignored him and reached out to carefully tap a claw against the paper that had LEE PRICE on it. 

" **We** **would start by eating that one, because he's annoying. Then possibly this one, since he also seems awful.** " It moved to tap on Newman's. Then the one for human trafficking. " **We** **would also eat everyone involved in this.** " 

Eddie sat back, raising his brows. "Eat? As in...?" 

" **Consume** ," it helpfully clarified, nodding. " **Starting with the head. That's the best part.** " Just thinking about it made the symbiote salivate, dripping drool on Eddie's kitchen table. 

Flash's alarm was brief and pointless because Eddie didn't seem terribly disturbed over the admission or the saliva. He was frowning but not in a way that looked scared or upset. "Huh. You know, I was under the impression that you were scary looking but secretly a harmless softie and all that violence, interrogation, and hardened vigilante stuff was the Agent. I probably should have known better considering the teeth and the claws." 

See? Eddie was very accepting. Flash was still a little reluctant on sharing the more violent details of the symbiote's nature but the symbiote felt like those things were for  _it_  to decide if they should be shared or not. Flash could hide and divulge things about him, but things about the symbiote... That was its judgement to make. 

Such a strange distinction, too. One that even surprised Flash. So often things were about them, always them together, and the symbiote loved that, wanted that more than anything, but with Eddie thrown in the mix... It wasn't just  _them_  anymore. Flash and Eddie had their own things. The symbiote had its thing with Flash. It also wanted something with Eddie. 

It was met with some reluctance on Flash's part and while that didn't fade, the symbiote was very pleased to feel a soft sort of acceptance. 

And... Pride. 

The feeling made it rumble deep in its chest, happy of the approval and pushing back all of its love towards its host. Eddie, unknowing the reasons for it, just frowned. "You good, V?" 

It paused, tilting its head and immediately distracted by the new thing. " **V?** " 

"Uh... Yeah. It's like a nickname. Like my actual name is Edward, but I go by Eddie?" 

It was much harder to mimic an eye roll towards someone who wasn't its host. That didn't stop it from trying. " **We know what a nickname is, yes. We were just surprised you gave me one.** " 

Eddie sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh... Venom is a cool name and all but V is also... It's a reference to A.C. Crispin. She wrote this book about aliens coming to earth, disguised to look like humans and promising peace and prosperity and stuff but really they were lizard people that wanted to enslave the human race. Everyone on earth called them the Visitors. V for short. And you're an alien, so..." 

The symbiote grinned widely. " **You are very clever, yes. I'm also an alien that can look like a human and my kind originally came here to consume all life.** " 

"Didn't really realize it was, uh.  _That_  fitting. You guys were going to consume us?" 

" **Like an all-you-can-eat buffet** ," it announced gleefully. " **But humans are much smarter than my kind originally gave them credit for. Our scouting party was poorly led and when our leader abandoned us, myself and the others were trapped. The others were starved until they consumed their hosts and then suffocated in the toxic atmosphere of your planet.** " 

Eddie froze with his beer lifted halfway to his mouth. "Oh... Uh. Wow. That's... Not really what I was expecting there. I'm sorry about your teammates? Kind of? I'm more glad that earth didn't become an all-you-can-eat buffet, but still. That sounds like it sucks." 

The symbiote shrugged. " **They were assholes anyway.** " 

The sip of beer was nearly choked on. "Oookay. You're a very interesting alien." But Eddie was smiling as he shook his head and that was nice. It only dimmed when he glanced back at the slips of paper but whatever he saw there, it didn't take him long for him to turn his attention back to the symbiote. "I don't know about you but I need a break from all that. How about you tell me about your kind? I'm curious now."

This was going well. Pleased, the smybiote rumbled in thought. " **My kind are the Klyntar. Very old, but I am young compared to most. Too young to remember much of their history before the divide. From what I've been told, after they were free from their God, half of them wanted to go explore the stars and conquer worlds for themselves. To consume so they could grow stronger and secure the Klyntar race across the cosmos. The other half were weak and pitiful and did not want to be strong. They were content to cross the universe to find a host, have weak progeny, and let the Klyntar race die a slow death. I was spawned on a meteor of conquerors, traveling from planet to planet in an effort to consume.** "

The symbiote liked the way Eddie listened. He watched it with a slight tilt to his head, intrigued and interested. When the symbiote paused, he even smiled a bit. "Let me guess... The meteor full of conquerors told you that the others were weak and pitiful and wanted the race to die out?" 

It reached out to pat Eddie very, very carefully on the head. " **See? You are clever. I suspect that you're right. To them, a host was nothing more than a means to an end. Transportation. Food. Sometimes used for strategy. But none were ever so complicated as humans. None that I encountered.** " 

Eddie scoffed as he tried to fix hair after the symbiote messed it up. He didn't succeed. "We are pretty complicated. Would you ever go back to them if you could? Become a great alien conqueror and all that?" 

" **Never** ," it answered simply, rumbling softly as it placed a large hand against its chest. Sometimes Flash did that, when he could feel it concentrated around his heart. It was always a nice gesture. " **I was a loser to my kind. I thought too much like the others and they shunned me for it. Being the last one left here was... Not pleasant. I was angry and scared and the humans were afraid. I hated this planet and would have gladly helped my kind destroy every bit of it, but then I found this host. They were also angry and often scared and felt alone. They were told terrible things about me, which... Were true. Mostly. But they had also done terrible things in the past and they wanted to be more than that. They believed they could be, and that I could help them. I could not talk to my host at the time but my host talked to me and though they had no reason to trust me, they did. We are partners. And friends. Because of them, I have decided that this planet is my home and if anything tries to harm it, we will rip that thing into little bitty pieces, consume each little piece, and then shit each little piece out in its own turd that will then be flushed down the toilet one at a time so they can rot in sewage surrounded by even more shit.** " 

The symbiote wasn't exactly sure what it said that was so funny but watching Eddie nearly tip out of his chair because he was laughing so hard that he had been reduced to breathless wheezing was a very nice feeling. So was the warmth and love it could feel coming from Flash. 

It couldn't remember a time when it had ever felt happier.

Eddie didn't even mind when it ate his mug with the hot chocolate in it, even though Flash insisted they apologize about fifteen billion times.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash just isn't having a good week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this from under my bed. Which might sound impressive but I have a loft bed and there's a lot of space under here. It's quite cozy.

"Man... I am so sorry about the mess." 

Eddie looked adorably sheepish as he led Flash into his apartment, wincing every time he saw an empty wrapper on the counter top or jeans slung over the arm of his couch, but for Flash, the place looked exactly how it had the last time he had been there. It was comfortable, it was cozy, it looked lived-in and welcoming. He just had to pretend it was actually his first time there. So he gave it the quick once-over before chuckling and waving off Eddie's apology. "Compared to my place, anywhere would look a little cluttered. I like it, really." 

Just further reminder that maybe, eventually, he would get around to hanging up those posters. 

Some of those posters, anyway.

Eddie looked cheered as he clasped his hands together. "Good, because I'm hoping you'll make yourself comfortable. Want a b--" he caught himself and there was the slightest hesitation before he adjusted to, "--bottle of water?" 

After how many times Eddie had offered Agent Venom a beer, it was obvious that was Eddie's default. He was a social drinker, most people were, but there was an attempt to be respectful. Flash leaned back in his chair, giving Eddie a sly look that made it clear he caught the slip, but it was just a tease. "A bottle of water would be great. I'll let you grab that from the fridge for me even though it won't do much to reduce my exposure since you have a couple empty beer bottles on your coffee table." It wasn't often that Eddie turned red, but he did then as he hastily collected the bottles to throw away while Flash laughed softly and pushed himself towards the kitchen. "You don't have to do that, Eddie, but I appreciate it." 

"I don't want to make anything more difficult for you than it already is," he answered as he snagged the water and offered it to Flash. 

Taking it, he set it up on the counter top and instead motioned Eddie closer. Giving him a questioning look, Eddie stepped closer. "No... Come here. Like, lean down." Eddie did, catching on but being a little shit about it and leaning down just out of Flash's reach. "Little more." Still out of reach, and Eddie was smirking. Rolling his eyes, Flash leaned up just enough to snag the front of Eddie's shirt and pull him down the extra little bit to kiss his cheek. "Jesus, so much for not wanting to make it difficult." 

"Mm..." Eddie turned his cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to Flash's lips. "I would consider that making you work for it, not being difficult." 

Flash huffed against his lips. "I can't believe my boyfriend is a dick." 

It was Flash's first time saying it after Eddie had the previous week and even though he managed to sound casual, it felt like a big deal saying it out loud. It was one thing to be called someone's boyfriend, another entirely for him to admit that he had one. A boyfriend. It sent nervous and not entirely unpleasant flutters through his stomach. Or maybe it was just the way Eddie smiled when he heard it, or the way it immediately made him lean back down to catch Flash's mouth in another kiss. This one deeper, the kind that made Flash melt and part his lips. 

Eddie was leaning on the arms of his chair, though, so when he pressed forward to deepen it further, it rolled and he had to shuffle with it to keep from breaking contact. And shuffle forward more when that just slowly rolled Flash back. He laughed against Eddie's lips, tightening his hold on the man's shirt. "Might wanna, uh... Pull the breaks?" 

"Mhm." Except Eddie didn't want to stop kissing him to do that so he just blindly reached down to feel for it, his weight on one hand tilting their slow shuffle backwards to the right. "Ah... Where...? 

"By the wheel." 

Eddie nipped at his bottom lip before licking into his mouth with a soft hum, successfully pulling a groan from Flash. 

The right wheel of his chair hit something and then Eddie was putting his hand back on the other arm to fully push the chair against the side of the couch and pin it there with a triumphant grin. "Found the breaks." 

Adorable. "That absolutely doesn't count," Flash murmured, even as he tangled his hand in Eddie's hair to continue kissing him. It did nothing to silence Eddie, but the sounds that he made against Flash's mouth was far from a disagreement and both him and the symbiote decided that they were very delicious noises. The kind that made Flash grip Eddie a little bit closer and suddenly the kisses carrier more heat until they were breathless and panting between each eager press of lips. 

Without having to worry about the chair pushing back, Eddie had a hand on Flash's cheek and had dropped his other to Flash's thigh, not necessarily innocent but not pushing. It was a seemingly thoughtless gesture that contrasted against the hesitant, careful way his last two girlfriends touched him there and it had Flash's grip on Eddie's shirt tightening for leverage so he could lean more into the kiss with a sigh. In response, Eddie pushed the kiss rougher, pressing him back into his seat. Then his lips were moving to trail down Flash's jaw, parted and sending shivers down his spine with every hot breath and wet kiss against his skin. 

The hand on Flash's thigh pushed up his shirt, fingertips against bare skin raising goosebumps there as Eddie's lips found Flash's again. The kiss was brief before he was murmuring, "Maybe... We should continue this somewhere a little more vertical?" If Eddie was trying to sound suave, he was too breathless to pull it off. Instead he just sounded wrecked and that was so much hotter. At least until he added, "Gotta say, this position is killer on the back," successfully sending Flash into a bout of breathless snickers. 

"Yeah... Yeah I think we can do that," he murmured, leaning forward to nuzzle against Eddie's cheek for good measure before letting go of him. 

Eddie stood up and stretched his back with a wince but didn't take more than a second to recover before shooting Flash a gentlemanly smile. "Do you mind if I push you towards the bedroom, Mr. Thompson, or would you rather follow after me?"

Truly an idiot. 

"Considering I want to get back to kissing you as soon as possible, you can push," he answered with a roll of his eyes. In part to cover up the nerves that were left behind now that Eddie's lips weren't thoroughly distracting him. But there was a thrill there, too, and a pleased warmth in his chest that was wholeheartedly agreeing to this. Flash pressed a hand to his heart, thumb brushing across the material of his shirt as Eddie circled him with a laugh and started towards the bedroom. 

"Your wish is my command, then." 

He wanted this. He wanted this so bad it ached. He didn't leave room for thinking or second-guessing. The second Eddie had his chair against the side of his bed, Flash was yanking the breaks so he could push himself up and onto the mattress. He was half-hard from the kissing alone and the brief seconds of nervousness from the living area to the bedroom hadn't had the chance to dull the excitement. He wanted Eddie's mouth on him, hands on him, wanted Eddie  _on him_  and he was determined to get that. 

By the time he was seated against the headboard and turning back to Eddie, the man was working the buttons off his shirt and Flash paused to watch. Noticing him, the little tease purposely slowed down, smirking. There was a hint of ink on his skin under the button-up, a nice little surprise that Flash found himself thrilled at. Unlike Eddie, he didn't take his time. He just shrugged his shirt off and tossed it over against his chair, leaning back to watch with a smug look as Eddie paused and stared. 

Sure, sometimes Flash's confidence wasn't the best, but he knew everything above the belt looked great. Eddie had seen the toned muscles before but it hadn't exactly been in this context. Now, Eddie didn't bother hiding that he was looking, letting his eyes wander and linger where they pleased and Flash soaked up the attention. 

**He wants us.**

Yes. Yes he did. And they wanted him too. 

Suddenly, Eddie didn't seem too interested in taking his time. He fumbled with the rest of his buttons and let his shirt hit the ground. It only gave Flash a brief few seconds to see the ink across his chest and shoulders but no time to tell what all the shapes were before Eddie was crawling across the bed to press him into the pillows with a heated kiss. Just like that, they fell right back into it. The hand that wasn't keeping Eddie propped up was busy trailing up Flash's stomach and tracing every dip in his skin, making muscles twitch under the attention. Meanwhile Flash had his smoothing up Eddie's side and around to his back, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blades to draw him closer. 

Eddie was softer. Not necessarily in shape but not out of shape either, just softened and perfect and Flash desperately wanted him closer. 

Lips were on his neck again, but this time they pressed lower, down to his collarbone before Eddie let his teeth scrap against Flash's skin. When he heard the shaky gasp and felt the way Flash's nails bit into his skin, he seemed to decide that was a good place to latch on, biting and sucking, soothing the ache with his tongue before starting over again. Flash could feel the symbiote letting the bruise surface instead of healing it and he tossed his head back with a breathless groan of gratitude for it. 

He loved the way the scrap of stubble against his skin made it impossible to forget who he was with and when Eddie shifted to press his thigh between Flash's, there was no missing the half-hard press of Eddie's cock against his hip. 

It was a foreign feeling, so different from any of his other sexual encounters that it almost felt surreal. It was good, though. It was so much hotter than Flash ever let him think it would be, that was more of a reason for him to jerk his hips up than the press of Eddie's thigh was, drawing out low sounds from both of them. He was actually with a guy. Intimately with another man, enjoying it, thrilled by it, and it felt so incredibly right that for half a second, Flash nearly thought it had to be too good to be true. 

Eddie's hand was trailing back down his stomach, leaving warmth and heat in its wake. It had reached the end of it's track as his lips moved from the deepening bruise to work a bit further down. Right when that half a second of doubt hit was when Eddie reached for his own belt. 

In hindsight, it was probably the doubt paired with the sound of the buckle clicking and the belt sliding from loops but in the moment all Flash knew was that things were great, there was a second of uncertainty, and then his breath locked in his lungs, his muscles froze, and everything was  _wrong_  and  _not right_ , and  _he couldn't breathe._  

**Flash?**

The symbiote should have been the clearest voice in his head even over his own, but there was a ringing in his ears and everything was  _wrong_. The fear was so thick he felt dizzy with it but it was familiar, he knew it well and he knew how to deal with it. Just don't move. Don't move, don't breathe, be invisible and everything will be fine, nothing bad will happen, except this wasn't the same situation and there wasn't pain but there was stubble scraping his skin raw and the press of an erection against his hip that were still there, Eddie hadn't realized that the hitch of his breath and the tight grip weren't an encouragement anymore and this was  _wrong_. Don't move. Don't breathe. Be invisible. 

He wasn't moving but he  _was_. He was pushing at Eddie's chest but he didn't want to be, it wasn't his decision to move, his body was acting on it's own and he choked out a panicked, "No, no, no, no!" because fighting back only resulted in more pain, it made everything his fault, he shouldn't have been moving or fighting or-- The second Eddie rolled off him, Flash was pushing himself out of swinging distinct as quick as he could. 

"Flash...?" 

 **Flash!**   **We** **need to breathe. You are panicking. No one here to hurt you. Nothing bad. Breathe.**  His chest hurt and he had his arms raised defensively, shoulders curled in, but no one was moving. He drug in a shaky breath, the ringing in his ears growing quieter.  **Another breath. Deep.**  Another one. And another before he slowly lowered his arms. He wanted to curl up and tuck his face in his knees but when he tried it didn't exactly work so he took to burying his face in his hands instead, unable to stop how hard he was shaking all over. Another breath. It made his chest ache. 

"Hey, Flash..." The voice was gentle but the touch to his shoulder was unexpected and he flinched. The hand was immediately pulled back. "Hey, hey... You're okay. You're safe. Just breathe for me, okay?"

**Yes, breathe.**

He did as he was told, the panic and fear slowly giving way to hot shame settling deep in his core and once he was a bit steadier, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and let out a shaky, "Sh-Shit..." 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Eddie sounded so damn concerned and it made Flash want to fold in on himself and cease to exist in the same galaxy as the man. He felt too exposed, weak, and really, really fucking stupid. He could only shake his head in response, figuring if he kept his eyes covered he could pretend that he was alone and hadn't just made an idiot of himself in front of his boyfriend. He needed to breathe more. The symbiote was a gentle pressure at the back of his shoulders, like someone was rubbing them but the sensation was just under his skin. It was familiar and comforting. He concentrated on the feeling of that, of the deep rumble that was trying to soothe him from the inside out, and on the feeling of his breaths easing the tightness in his lungs. 

Flash didn't notice that Eddie had left until the bed dipped by his thighs and he peeked between his fingers to see a bottle of water being held out for him. He followed it up to the arm offering it, then the arm up to Eddie's kind but worried expression. Dropping his gaze, Flash took the bottle, and Eddie handed him his shirt next. Flash saw that Eddie had already put on a tee. He pulled on his own shirt and then opened the water to take a long drink, his hands still shaking despite his best attempts to stop them. "Sorry," he mumbled, half wishing the water was something a little stronger. "I, uh... I should go." 

"If you want to," Eddie answered. "I can get you an Uber. But... I'd like it if you stayed."

The surprise felt distant and numbed, but Flash had been sure after that whole debacle, Eddie would rather him just go home and they could hopefully pretend none of this happened. He turned the water bottle over in his hands, keeping his gaze down on that and not sure how to respond. When it was clear that there wouldn't be an answer, Eddie shifted closer and slowly reached out to take Flash's hand. It was relinquished and when Eddie squeezed, Flash exhaled slowly and squeezed back harder. 

He could feel Eddie's gaze on him but stubbornly refused to lift his own, even when Eddie sighed and murmured, "We should probably talk about that." 

"I don't... I don't know what that was," he admitted, swallowing tightly. 

**You were panicking.**

"I was... Panicking, I guess." 

Eddie's thumb rubbed over the back of his hand. "Have you had a panic attack before?"

Flash tried to remember if he had experienced anything like  _that_  before but shook his head, finding himself vaguely frustrated. "I've had anxiety attacks before, and that was similar, but... There's a reason for those and it's usually because I'm stressed and I hit a breaking point. There wasn't any reason for that, I was just... I just..." 

"Hey, it's fine," Eddie assured and when Flash glanced up he had to swallow hard around the sudden lump in his throat by how genuinely understanding the smile on Eddie's face was. "Seriously, Flash. I've had panic attacks before. They usually come on quickly, intensely, and for no real reason in the circumstance. But if I had to guess..." He gave Flash's hand another quick squeeze. "I'm a reporter, I notice things, and I've definitely noticed how uncomfortable you are when I touch you in public."

Shit. Flash immediately thought back to the news anchors on TV all laughing at Eddie and what he knew of how popular the man had once been and how he was still harped on by the public. "I'm not ashamed of being around you." 

"Which is relieving to hear, definitely, but that wasn't quite what I was getting at." Eddie hesitated and then shifted further onto the bed so he could sit himself next to Flash, who found himself with an arm wrapped around his shoulders, gentle and slow as if to make sure it was alright. He checked in with himself before scooting a bit closer to Eddie and tucking himself against the man's side, the warmth helping to ease some of the shakes. He felt drained, way worse than after a workout because it had none of the good feelings to go with it. He just felt miserable. "I'm here to listen, okay? Talk to me about what's going on."

He really didn't want to but the symbiote sent him a wave of vague disapproval.  **Talk to him.**

Flash sighed in irritation, mostly at himself, and curled closer to Eddie. "It's..." God, he didn't even know where to begin. Eddie didn't rush him, just gently rubbed his arm. Finally Flash mumbled, "I don't know. I guess... My dad was just very vocal about what he felt like a man should and shouldn't be like. He was NYPD and most of the community knew him, so he worried over family appearances a lot. Didn't want his son making him look bad, maybe. Wanted me to grow up and be a man, like him. Used to throw a fit about my action figures and tell me to put away my  _dolls_  when company was coming over. Didn't want me to be  _prissy_. Queens is a tight knit neighborhood, I couldn't get away with anything without it somehow finding its way back to my dad. I learned really quick not to let my eyes wander or seem too friendly with anyone on the football team one on one. The next time came he came home drunk, he wouldn't let me forget about it." He hadn't realized how tense he was while he spoke until Eddie started to squeeze his shoulder, thumb rubbing at knotted muscles until Flash relaxed a fraction. "Sorry. This isn't really something I should be pushing on you." 

Eddie's scoff was gentle. "We've been dating for... What, a month and a half now? And this is our first time really trying to fool around? I think that's a good sign I'm in this for the long haul, babe. And you're not the only one with a shitty father." Flash glanced up only to have a kiss pressed to his forehead. "Not nearly as bad as yours, but, y'know, it's not really a competition. Mine just never cared. Nothing was ever good enough to get his attention except for the few times I really pissed him off. I spent most of my life trying to get something out of him, anything, but most of the time he just wanted me to shut up and leave him alone. So there's my tragic backstory and I'm sure if I ever talked a therapist, they would tell me that's why I'm a reckless, attention-seeking journalist that loves to play hero. It's just the grown up version of stealing toys in elementary school so I could find them and people would be grateful and love me." 

"Ah... That's sort of implying you're  _causing_  the news you're writing about," Flash pointed out. Eddie let out a surprised huff at the poor attempt of a joke but pulled Flash tighter against him and pressed his nose into Flash's hair.

"Fortunately, I prefer to avoid putting people in harm's way like that. I like to be the hero, after all." It explained a lot about Eddie, actually.

The easy acceptance of Flash's past and gentle reassurances were nice. Flash was still miserable and drained, but being tucked against Eddie's side and feeling the soothing hums of the symbiote in the back of his mind let the shame fade into something manageable. A comfortable silence stretched between the two until Eddie shifted to press another kiss against Flash's hair and sit up. "We'll figure it all out, alright? But for now, I know how draining that shit can be. How about we get some sleep?" 

Flash smiled softly. "That sounds great, actually. Thank you, Eddie."

 

* * *

 

Targeting the heroin warehouses was starting to become a waste of time. The business through San Francisco was too large and too heavily funded for Agent Venom to make a lasting dent in them and there were other problems that they might have caught soon enough to actually put an end to, like the trafficking business. Once they set their sights on that, things fell into place stupidly easy. 

They broke into the branch manager's office at the Shining Starz Talent Agency to snoop around, going through desk drawers and the trash can only to turn up what one might expect of a distant manager who probably sat in his office and, from the looks of it, crumpled up blank pieces of paper to shoot into his wastepaper basket. Luckily, he was also the type of branch manager to have his computer passwords taped to the bottom of his monitor and his email information set to automatically log him in. 

For a criminal, he sure wasn't the paranoid sort. 

The trash of his personal email was full of spam and several emails from addresses that were all just numbers, a date for the subject, and an address for the body. The dates seemed to line up with what Eddie's source had told him and the most recent one's subject date was in two days. 

So they took down the address and made sure to show up for the party. 

Unsurprising, the address was for a warehouse down by the shipping district, closer to the area where large freight ships were loaded with cargo for transport. For the next two days they ran observation. It was impossible to tell what was going on in there, but something definitely was. The place was guarded at all hours by heavily armed men on the ground and the rooftops. It was like they were expecting someone. Unfortunately, they never got the chance to check during the day to see if anything was being brought in but it was answer enough that the address was something important. 

So when the big date came, Agent Venom made sure to show up early, right as the sun was setting. Nothing had changed. Same armed guards, but they only hung around for another hour or so before they just... Left. Nothing had gone in. Nothing had to come out. They were damn near positive of that. They watched for another hour but no one else showed up. 

**Trap?**

Had to be. 

**Guess we should spring it, then.**

The symbiote sounded excited at the prospect of some action and frankly, Flash was too. 

If this was a trap, the quickest way to spring it was to walk right through the front doors, which was exactly what they did. They were expecting a lot of things, from men with guns, to cargo of alien weapons, to a party set up in order to lure young aspiring models into a human trafficking ring. 

What they got was a man sitting in a folding chair in the center of a large, empty space, who waited until they were halfway across the space to even bother looking up from his phone. Brunet, maybe a little older than Flash was, and the way he held himself and his general demeanor was something Flash recognized instantly. It wasn't easy to explain but the way the man sat back, casual and easy, his posture straight but his shoulders relaxed, and the slight way he tilted his chin up was something Flash had seen often in the worst kind of soldiers he had encountered in the military. 

There were ones with bruised egos that wanted to prove themselves and often lashed out violently in an attempt to assert dominance, and then here were these ones. The quiet ones that watched and calculated. The ones that held a strange air of control no matter how badly the situation was falling apart because they knew it would throw both enemy and ally off, making all of them easy targets besides themselves. They were the ones with no camaraderie, whose only concern was them and how they could get ahead. 

"I did have other things to do today, Agent Venom." 

And he was an asshole. Nice. "Lee Price?"  

The man stood. He had a gun but he didn't go for it, just and spread his arms out. "I thought it was time we talked, I just didn't think it would take this long. I wanted to see who had been interrupting my business." He glanced them over, calm and unafraid even as they continued approaching. "I was expecting you to be bigger." 

They didn't like this. Something about the situation was off. They paused a comfortable distance away, tense and on guard for the slightest hint of any surprise. 

"And I was expecting you to be to have a little more firepower, so I guess we're both disappointed." they shot back. "Why does Newman want you in charge of the city?" They weren't sure if that was the situation but asking straight out was a good way to find out if they were on the right track or not. 

And from Price's simple shrug and casual, "I make the city safer," it seemed like they were on the right track after all. Newman was the one funding Price's way. 

"I call bullshit on that. What is he getting out of this from you, Price?" 

"You should learn to listen more, Agent." Their eyes narrowed. "Newman isn't dumb. Five gangs fighting for territory and getting innocent people caught in the crossfire is more dangerous than all of those people united under one man and operating smoothly. There's always going to be criminal activity in the city, that's just human nature, but it's better for everyone involved when it runs like a business instead of a battle royale for power in the streets." 

Something didn't feel right about the answer. Every time Eddie talked about Newman, he mentioned money. The guy liked to line his wallet more than he liked protecting the streets of San Francisco. 

Either Price was a good actor, or he was convinced he genuinely had the mayor's support for the safety of the public. 

Didn't matter. 

"Sure, having one guy causing all the trouble on the street does seem safer." They pulled their gun a little quicker than Price, aim even for right between his eyes and not at all worried the steady aim of the one pointed at them. "It means there's only one person to get rid of when the place needs to be cleaned up." 

There was a slight upturn to the edges of Price's lips that they didn't appreciate. "That's not a smart move, Agent Venom." 

"Is this where you reveal your blackmail on me? The deadman's switch that blows this place up if your heart stops? My kidnapped son that you've taken hostage? For your sake, I hope it's not the gun you're pointing at me." 

"I've heard bullets don't do much against you." In what was sure to be an attempt to be impressive and ballsy, Price hit the slide release on his gun and let the magazine drop to the floor before raising both hands, palms up, the gun held loosely in one as he turned to set it down on the chair behind him. Then he dropped his hands, officially unarmed. "Two words, Agent. Power Vacuum. If you would have found me before I established a firm monopoly on a majority of illegal trades in the city, I might be a little worried right now. But I've driven out my competition, I've united a majority of the violent groups that used to fight each other in the streets, and I've established a large amount of territory through the city. If I die, all the cartels and gangs I've driven out will rush back in to grab as much territory as possible. My group won't disappear, they'll fracture into who knows how many different pieces, each one bidding for more than they had before. You'll have a war on your hands, Agent Venom. I think it's much easier to work with the enemy you know than the _enemies_ you don't." 

For the symbiote, it sounded like a bunch of bullshit, but it made a stupid amount of sense of Flash and he hated it. Walking away and letting this man live felt like a defeat but subjecting the streets of San Francisco to an all out war for power and territory was worse. Maybe they could handle the cartels and outside groups now that they had been pushed back, but dealing with them on top of Price's men making a ruckus in the process?

Reluctantly, they lowered their gun. "Don't think this is over, Price. I'll shut your businesses down the legal way if I have to. Then I'll take care of you personally and if anyone tries this shit again, they can update you on how San Francisco has been when they see you in hell."

There was an easy smile on Price's face as he turned his back on them and headed for the rear entrance, leaving his dismantled gun and sending them a wave over his shoulder. "Considering how well you've been at getting my men arrested so far... Good luck with that. Mayor Newman is a generous man who knows how to keep the streets clean even if you don't."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes growing up means remembering that you have responsibilities, which sucks. Sometimes growing up means remembering that you've matured as a person and that your therapist is just a phone call away, which doesn't suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about football and I tried looking at wikipedia but there's a lot of words that I don't understand. I went with what sounded vaguely correct but if it doesn't make sense, I'm so sorry. Please don't bother explaining how I'm wrong, I promise you I won't understand no matter how much you dumb it down. You'll have an easier time teaching a duck.

The problem of Lee Price had to be worked out one step at a time. Unfortunately, Eddie wasn't much help against the larger things. The drugs, the trafficking, moving into smuggling and now extorting locals for protection money -- he could investigate those all he wanted but nothing would actually be done about them with the police currently tucked into Newman's pocket. Agent Venom was making progress but it was slow and most of the people he stopped one night just ended up back on the streets by the next. Still, it was something. Just something Eddie didn't have the skills, tools, or know-how to help with. 

He could, however, turn attention back onto the cops. He tried once only for the internal investigation to be brushed aside and public outcry distracted with other things, but if he could keep attention on the police force, if he could make this impossible to ignore and had the evidence to back it up... 

" _We have a report of a 10-66 on Clearwater._ " 

" _10-4, we're on our way. I hope it's not another drunk college kid... Last one puked in the cruiser._ " 

" _Caller didn't say, but... Good luck if it is, Henley._ " 

" _Yeah... Thanks._ " 

Flash shifted from where he had his head pillowed on Eddie's lap, having fallen asleep halfway through watching some movie on the Hallmark Channel. Eddie had never taken him for the Hallmark type but Flash had just shrugged and claimed nothing else was on once he finished grading papers for the night. Eddie's current work was... Well, not exciting, especially on quiet nights. He set aside his notebook and dropped a hand to Flash's hair, absently curling the longer strands around his finger while he listened to the bit and pieces of radio chatter through one ear-bud. 

"Mm... What time is it?" 

Eddie glanced over at the clock as he brushed a hand against Flash's cheek. "It's, uh... Shit. It's already past three, Jesus. I didn't mean to stay so late, guess I lost track of time."

Flash soft smile was sleepy and not at all upset with the arrangement. He just rolled and wrapped his arms around Eddie's middle, nuzzling into his stomach. "Too late for you to go home now, then. Overhear anything interesting on the scanners tonight?" 

"There was a drug-related shooting earlier but nothing I've been looking for." Eddie had listened to a couple of Henley's shifts so far and had the guy seemed clean. There were fifty-one stations in San Francisco, though, and from what he had been able to map of Price's territory with Agent Venom's help, forty-three of them were within those bounds but that didn't mean the other ones weren't being paid off too. That was a lot of stations, a lot of officers, and Eddie already had a growing list of ones making comments that seemed a little...  _Off_. 

He'd had the damn scanner practically attached to his ear for two weeks now. Flash asked about it every so often and while he did seem genuinely curious about the investigation, Eddie's responses were usually vague. It seemed smarter. He doubted most people enjoyed the thought of their boyfriend investigating the cops, the last thing he wanted was to give Flash any reason to worry. After what happened with Anne, it was probably best to keep his work life and his private life as separate as possible. Hell, he hadn't even mentioned Agent Venom despite working with the vigilante so often now. 

Flash didn't seem to mind. He didn't press for details, just hummed when Eddie went back to playing with his hair. "Well... You've been working really hard so I'm sure you'll find what you need eventually. You keep telling me you're a good journalist, I'm willing to believe it."

Eddie found that he liked their little work dates. Sometimes they would go over to his house, sometimes they would end up at Flash's, and they would curl up nearby and silently work on whatever they needed to do. It was comfortable and he actually liked watching Flash work. Anne would either shut herself up in her office or stay late at the firm if she needed to get extra work done. All her stuff had been confidential anyway, so it had taken Eddie a few work dates before he felt comfortable really  _watching_  Flash. It was cute, though. He would get out his red pen like any normal teacher and sit there with piles of papers and a clip board, a little furrow in his brow as he read through papers and sucked on the end of the pen until he needed to use it. Sometimes he would narrow his eyes and just  _stare_  at something a student had written as if that would somehow get it to make sense. Then he would either get out his phone to google whatever it was that threw him off, or the student would end up with a whole shit ton of red marks on their paper.

More often than not, they would end up spending the night with each other. Just something casual and innocent, but Eddie had quickly learned that Flash was clingy when he was sleepy. It was great. 

"I am a good journalist," he teased softly before the nagging worry at Flash's words got the best of him. "I'm... Not working too hard, right? You don't feel like I'm ignoring you for my work?" 

Flash peeked up at him before tucking his face against Eddie again in an attempt to stifle his yawn. One hand moved soothingly up and down Eddie's side until he could mumble, "Nah, adult life sucks sometimes, but I know your work is important to you. And you're great, but I'm still getting used to having someone around so often. A couple times a week is a good way to ease into it, I think. Lets me take care of errands on the weekend and stuff around the house without feeling weird. But..." He glanced back up again, giving Eddie his best attempt at a stern look while still being half-asleep and cozy in Eddie's lap. "It is three in the morning. Time to sleep." 

Eddie grinned. "Fine, but we're sleeping in the actual bed. I don't know how you mange to sleep on this couch every night." 

"Easy. I just imagine how humiliating it would be to have to ask a neighbor for help putting the sheets back on after I wash them. Makes the couch and the easy to remove cushion covers feel  _very_  comfortable." 

Prodding Flash into sitting position, Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw from behind. "Lucky you got me, then, huh? Fitted sheets are still a pain but I think I can take care of them for you, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to Flash's cheek when he huffed. "Dear." Another one, his arms winding around Flash's waist to pull him close. "Darling." A couple more, each followed by a different pet name until Flash was laughing at trying to bat him off. "Honey. Sweetie. Apple of my eye! I'm not stopping until you tell me you'll stop sleeping on the couch." 

"Fine, fine, oh my god! You're the worst." He slumped back against Eddie, grinning. "You can take care of the sheets." 

 

* * *

 

**No.**

In the silence of the darkened rooftop, the firm voice inside Flash's head felt incredibly loud. Despite that, they didn't pause in step as they continued trailing after the police cruiser. It was rare for Flash to bother forming a structured answer since the symbiote was better at interpreting and understanding abstract thoughts and feelings than Flash was, but in a vain attempt to cover up what had been on his mind he found himself thinking,  _I didn't say anything._

**Don't have to. I am inside your head, Flash, remember? Can't hide anything from me. Can see why you would want to, though. That idea is very dumb and we're not doing it.**

The car rolled to a stop between a pawn shop that had been closed for as long as they had lived in the city and an apartment complex. The officer stayed inside her car so they crouched on the rooftop across the street to watch. 

"It's not a dumb idea but now really isn't the time to have this conversation, buddy," he had them murmured out loud, the outward silence making him uncomfortable. It had been a long time since he felt uncomfortable by their silent chats.

 **Now is the time to have this conversation since now is the time you were thinking about it. Best to address problems quickly.**  Flash decided not to answer, to pretend he didn't hear and concentrate on keeping his eyes on the cruiser. Not like it would work, of course.  **Eddie wouldn't like you doing that.**

They sighed, partly Flash's annoyance at having the topic pushed and partly the symbiote's exasperation. "Yeah? And how would you know? You're in my head, not his." 

There was that eye rolling sensation again, a vague reminder of things Flash had once taught the symbiote.  **Decent people require consent, and Eddie is a decent person. Forcing yourself to do something you're reluctant to doesn't sound like consent.**

Leave it to the symbiote to paint things in such black and white terms. "I would be consenting to push myself out of my comfort zone and I'd rather do that than risk the alternative. Besides, I'm getting better with things." He blinked, realizing that Officer Norris had left her car and was currently disappearing down the alley. Dammit. "Stop distracting me." 

As they moved to follow, Flash could feel the symbiote was far from done. **You think the alternative is Eddie leaving you? We both know that's bullshit.**

But it wasn't. It wasn't bullshit, and it wasn't something the symbiote would understand. Its kind didn't do relationships like this and they didn't have a concept of sex the same way humans did. Though with all the romance movies it watched, Flash would have thought maybe it would realize that a relationship between two sexually active adults that had no reason to abstain but had managed to go over two months without even seeing genitals was not how things normally went. 

**There is a reason.**

Yeah, okay, there was. Flash conceded that point. The reason was that he was stupid and every time Eddie pressed forward, Flash pulled back. Gently, usually winding Eddie down with lighter kisses and pushing them more towards quiet snuggling than anything hot and heavy, but it didn't matter. Poor guy probably had blue balls by now.

They followed the officer down the alley, overhead and hidden in the shadows. She paused after rounding behind what might have an Italian restaurant from the smell of it, but there was no signage on the back of the building to be sure. If it was any kind of place serving food, it didn't look like it boasted the cleanest dining conditions. 

**Eddie is patient. You would do the same for him if the situation was reversed.**

Irritated by the continued argument, he pushed over different memories of the girls he had dated in his last two years of high school and into his first year of college, ones he had dated for a few weeks before ending things when it was clear they weren't too eager to put out as soon as he would have liked. He was a guy. That was something men did, because they were awful and sex was great and at the time he hadn't seen a point in dating someone who didn't want to give him that when he could be dating someone that did. 

**Doesn't count.**

_How in the hell does that not count?_

Instead of answering, the symbiote directed their attention back down at the officer and the man Flash had completely missed approaching her. At the very least it put a pause in their conversation. They silently crept down the wall to get as close as possible, blending into the shadows. A tendril snuck out, his phone webbed carefully by sticky little tendrils. He didn't need to be looking at the screen to know what was on it as they framed the officer and the man she was meeting with. 

"Price is starting to get frustrated," the guy was muttering. "Yeah, you all released Anton yesterday but it's not like he can do shit after the beating that freaky vigilante put on his ass. Price wants to know if you all are even making an effort to catch the asshole."

The officer waved the man off. "Of course we are, but that's not Newman's concern so Price is going to have to figure that out for himself. Do you know the chances of SFPD actually catching him? Just look at all the vigilantes running around New York. If Price wants him taken care of, he'll get better results taking care of it himself. And he better do it soon because we're all getting tired of coming up with cover stories when we get a delivery basket of his men on our doorstep. Do you have Newman's shit or not?" 

The man hardly looked happy about it but after a hard scoff he pulled off his backpack and handed the officer a file. "For a guy who claims that the Agent ain't his concern, he sure is asking a lot about him." 

 **There are many things you did during those times that you look back on and realize they weren't right. You've grown. The difference is that you didn't meet Eddie until after he had grown.**  Flash kept his attention on the officer they were recording, not bothering to answer but not really paying attention to the conversation going on below them either. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't important anyway, and it was all on video so what was the point? The symbiote eventually sighed.  **No forcing anything, Flash. You might consent to pushing yourself but I don't consent to feeling your discomfort.**

Flash knew the feelings that first came up were hardly fair to it. A bitterness over teaching it consent just to have that turned around and pushed back on him like that. A feeling of being manipulated into not doing what he wanted when feeling secondhand discomfort wasn't nearly the same thing as sitting there waiting for Eddie to break things off with him. The symbiote wanted Eddie too, it should have been happy that Flash wanted to push himself more. Now suddenly it wanted to take its time so badly it was guilting him for ignoring  _its_  consent? 

He spent the rest of the night steaming in anger and frustration, the symbiote silent and distant in the back of his head, but by the time they were on their way home the feelings had turned back on him. They took their time going home, walking over rooftops and almost lazily swinging over empty alleyways below, giving Flash time to think. He didn't necessarily like the conclusions. 

"I'm sorry," he finally muttered. The symbiote stirred for the first time since their talk, tightening around Flash and sending across the equivalent of a shrug. It had expected the push back. "Yeah, but... It wasn't fair for me to take my anger out on you when I'm just frustrated at myself and feeling... Insecure. So I'm sorry." 

**Apology accepted. Your therapist would be pleased to see you're still taking her suggestions for analyzing your feelings. Maybe you should call her.**

Yeah. Maybe he should.

 

* * *

 

Between Agent Venom and the investigations into police bribery, Eddie felt like he hardly had time to breathe. And whatever was going on with Flash, most of the time he looked just as exhausted as Eddie did. Besides their work dates, it just never seemed like they had a second to themselves. So sitting across from Flash at the cafe they had officially dubbed as  _theirs_  and listening to him talk animatedly about the first football game of the season was a real treat.

Eddie had known all along that Flash was sports guy but he felt like this was really his first time seeing it and he hoped he wasn't completely transparent as he watched Flash, more captured by his expressions and gestures than he was the meaning behind the words. The guy was just  _cute_. 

"They're a great team!" He insisted after giving Eddie a play by play of the previous night's game. That statement seemed directly contradicted by the all the previous details about their loss but it was football and Eddie just accepted the fact that he wouldn't understand. Yet. "The kids are good, the coaches made great position decisions, and from the looks of things, practice is right on track but it's the plays. We have a wide receiver built like a fucking tank. Yeah, he can catch a ball, but so can the others. Instead of focusing on passes, they could run a more defensive play with him. They were  _so close_  but none of the plays are optimized for the team, it was the most frustrating game I've ever had to sit through." 

Chuckling, Eddie reached out to pat Flash's hand sympathetically and when he only got a huffed sigh in response, he decided to just... Leave his hand there for a minute. 

"As a coach there, do you get any input for the football team?"

Flash didn't seem to notice Eddie's lingering touch, too busy with his chin in the palm of his other hand, legitimately moping over the game. Adorable. There was even a slight pout to his lips and Eddie adored him so much. "No, I just run gym class, unfortunately. The current football coach has been coaching there for about three years now. And I can see why we haven't made it to playoffs in those three years." 

Eddie decided to keep his hand where it was and wait until Flash decided to move. "Well... You're on pretty good terms with the guy, right? Why not draft up a few plays and run them by him?" 

Rest in peace, adorable pout. You were great while you lasted. Flash's frown took over and he sat up a bit straighter, shaking his head. "I can't do that. This is my first full year at the school and you don't just go up to a football coach and start dictating plays to them." 

"Why not?" 

Flash opened his mouth and then paused, really  _thinking_ about it for a moment before shaking his head helplessly. "You just... Can't do that. It's rude." 

Testing things just a bit, Eddie twined his fingers with Flash's as he leaned over the table with a lopsided smirk. "No such thing as can't, Flash. You can write out some plays and then sit down with the other coach and talk them through. Tell him what you've noticed about the team, how it plays into your ideas, and why you think they might work. Then it comes across as more helpful and collaborative than rude." 

Football was apparently the perfect distraction, Flash still didn't seem to notice that they were holding hands in a public cafe, during a rush no less. He was too busy frowning at Eddie. "I don't know..." 

"Worst that can happen is the coach doesn't want to discuss plays with you, in which case he's an asshole for not even hearing you out," Eddie continued. "And you seem like the type of guy who got very excited during prep rallies back in high school. Might be nice to see your new school's team actually have a chance to win the football cup or whatever." 

"Championship," Flash corrected distractedly, looking like he was starting to seriously consider the suggestion.

"Right. That." He gave Flash's hand a squeeze. "No such thing as can't." Eddie probably looked thrilled when he pointedly dropped his gaze to their hands. Flash dropped his gaze too, looking confused at first before realization hit and he quickly looked back up at Eddie, who grinned. "Feeling okay?" 

"I... Huh." A slow smile pulled at the edges of Flash's lips that Eddie had to resist kissing right off his beautiful face. Especially with the slight pink tint to his cheeks and the vague look of pride when Flash glanced back down at their hands and gripped Eddie's a little tighter. "Yeah. Actually. I, uh... I guess the exercises my therapist gave me weren't so dumb after all." The comment didn't seem directed at Eddie specifically but he couldn't help the questioning look. "Oh, yeah, I don't have set appointments because she's back in New York but sometimes, when I think I could benefit from a meeting, I give my therapist a call. Last week she suggested I try to imagine a situation like this with you periodically throughout my day, and run through what the worst thing is that could happen, the best thing that could happen, and the most likely thing to happen. So... I've been doing that and I don't feel... Anxious. Maybe a little nervous." The sheepish way Flash bit at his lip before smiling at him made Eddie's heart melt a little. "But that might have more to do with the attractive man holding my hand."

Laughing, Eddie dared to lift to Flash's hand to his lips so he could kiss the back of it, feeling pretty proud when he only saw a flicker of tension tightening around Flash's smile. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he answered. "But it won't get me to stop pushing you to write up some plays for the football coach." 

"I'll... Take a look at the next team we're up against. If I think of any brilliant plays, maybe I'll write them down and see what happens." When Eddie let their hands fall back to the table, Flash kept his fingers twined with Eddie's and went on to start singing praises for the team's Linebacker that almost saved the game and Eddie sunk back into that happy place where he didn't bother trying to understand the terms. He just listened to Flash's excitement and watched the ways his eyes lit up or how he gestured wildly with his free hand, thoroughly enjoying having that little bit of public contact that he craved with the guy.

He let it take his mind off his investigations, off the police, off the long nights spent tailing cops in the dark and snapping pictures of them with heroine dealers or walking right past a store where a clerk was calling out for help during an armed robbery. He didn't have much, but there were some good pictures and video clips that were sure to ruin the days of a couple officers who were up to no good. But that would all be for later. Right now he wanted to have a nice day with Flash where it was just them, like this, easy and normal and perfect.

Eddie made a mental note to start looking up football positions because eventually he wanted to actually speak Flash's language instead of just sitting there like a love-struck dope listening to his crush prattle on about things with nothing to contribute back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is improving and getting closer to their personal goals! One local reporter finds out that most of the time that's a great thing, but sometimes there are consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always like the idea of writing smut until I actually go to write smut and then instead of writing all the smart and sexy things in my head, I try to rush through it vaguely because I suck.

As much as Flash hated to admit it, the symbiote had been right about not forcing anything outside his comfort zone. And about making more frequent appointments with his therapist because he had been falling behind on that in light of everything going to shit on the streets of San Francisco. 

The one comfort was that Lee Price had  _not_  been right. So far, the crime rate on the streets had stayed at a steady high despite the control he had pretty much everywhere. Small businesses were being harassed more than ever since there were no gang rivalries to distract them from collecting protection payments. The drug business was thriving with hospitals reporting record cases of overdoses. Unless you were in the main part of the city where nothing seemed to sleep, not many people wandered the streets late at night. Not unless you were up to something. Newman was starting to look haggard. And better yet, the police were struggling to keep up appearances, especially after the publication of Eddie's most recent article. The most frequent offenders being delivered to station doorsteps were starting to actually  _stay_  there, presumably because Price was getting fed up with the ones stupid enough to get caught up with a vigilante over and over and over again.

Unfortunately, those were all things he couldn't talk about in a therapy session. That had been his biggest excuse for not calling Dr. Margret since he first settled down in San Francisco. Therapy was only as effective as a patient allowed it to be, it required them to be open and honest with the doctor since, despite what everyone seemed to think, therapists were not mind readers. What was the point of a session if Flash had to lie and hide information? 

Self-sabotage was a bitch like that and he should have known better. Just because he had to lie about some things didn't mean there wasn't still truths she could help him navigate. 

"How were things this week?" 

"Pretty good, actually," he answered, sitting back on his couch and making sure he was still in the frame of his computer camera. "Work is going smoother. I hated the idea of making a syllabus at first but it's been helpful. I don't have to deal with groaning students when I tell them we have book work, they all already know when they come in, and I'm not coming up with activities for the next class last minute and stressing about it. Eddie and I have been doing well too. Work has been rough on him but I'm forcing him to take a break tonight."

Margret was an older woman with graying hair and crow's feet and laugh lines. The best thing about her was how much she clearly cared for her patients and her smile over the news was genuine. "That's good to hear. He sounds like the type of guy that's heavily invested in his career, it's a good sign that he's willing to make time for you."

"We're both workaholics," Flash admitted with a small laugh. "But yeah. We've been making time for each other." He paused, the symbiote reminding him of something and after a brief hesitation he added, "Sometimes I feel guilty for it, though. My work for the VA is important to me and I know the more time I spend on it, the more it's going to benefit other people who are struggling right now. What if someone ends up... I don't know, falling back into a hole because I decided to push off something until the next meeting when they needed to hear it sooner?"

Working for the VA had originally been Flash's way of covering up a misstep in their first new session. A gym coach didn't have much of a workload, certainly not anything that would keep him up late at night working or keep him from seeing his boyfriend as much as he wanted to. Margret was a smart woman and it didn't escape her notice, so that had been Flash's excuse. It had turned into the perfect way to bring up some things that had been troubling him in his other life. 

Like the crushing sense of guilt that he wasn't doing enough for the people of San Francisco.

"Ah... The good news is, you're not alone in that guilt," Margret answered. "It's common for people working in public service and it's a hard struggle. I wish I could tell you an easy method for working through it but unfortunately it's never easy. Most people working in public service positions feel strongly about helping others, they feel like they're taking on a responsibility and sometimes it's very likely that there are lives depending on that work. That's why I give patients my cell number in case they hit a low point and need something to keep them anchored. But sometimes I have doctors appointments where I need to turn my phone off. Sometimes I go to the movies with my husband and I miss a call. Sometimes I'm stressed and exhausted and I'm not in a good mental place to help someone else out with their problems. You know I'm a strong believer that no one in this life is meant to go through it alone, but it's also important to recognize that the only person you're responsible for is yourself and that's a responsibility you have to take just as seriously as the other ones. The people that you're helping also need to be responsible for themselves. If they're at a critical point and turn to someone for help that isn't currently in a position to help them, it's their responsibility to either find help from someone else or to get through the moment until someone is available. If they can't, that's not on your shoulders, Flash. You have just as much of a right to live your life happily as anyone else does, and it's up to you to be responsible for that happiness and work towards balancing it with the responsibility you decide to take on for other people." 

Flash exhaled slowly, hands clasped his lap as he thought all of that over. It was a lot. Things that needed to be almost a constant reminder to him. Recognize his responsibility to himself and his happiness first, which sounded selfish on the surface but was probably a good reminder for people like him. He pursed his lips and looked back at his computer screen. "Is that what you would tell a police officers who didn't make it to a call in time?"

She smiled softly and shook her head. "Some of it, maybe. That one usually includes the reminder that they're human, that they can't be everywhere at once, and that they need to understand that sometimes it happens. Moments like that are why belief in a higher power can be so helpful. Life is scary, Flash. There's a lot of circumstances that are outside your control and in hindsight we like to tell ourselves that if we had just done more, or less, or tried harder, or kept our distance then things would have been different but without knowledge of the consequence beforehand, we had no reason to think we needed to change what we were doing. Even if there was something we could have done, if we didn't know that we needed to do it, it doesn't become our fault, it becomes a matter of circumstance, and that terrifies people how little things are in their control. It's natural to rather place blame because anger and guilt are easier to deal with than existential fear. Believing that there's some higher power with a grand plan helps bring a silver lining to it. Maybe that bad thing happened for a good reason, and then it becomes a matter of trusting something larger than yourself and it isn't so scary. But... I already know how you feel about that." 

Flash huffed out a soft laugh. "Yeah, me and the big guy upstairs are on rocky terms when it comes to bad shit happening to good people." 

"It still looks like something in my answer might have helped," she pointed out slyly. 

He conceded with a nod. "I guess it did, yeah. I'll have to give it some more thought but for now I feel a little easier." 

"Good." She smiled but didn't press further. Flash knew she would probably let him stew on all of it and several meetings later, when that was the last thing on his mind, she would bring it up again. That's how she worked. For now she switched gears onto lighter topics. "Have you been working on those scenarios we talked about you imagining?" 

He brightened a bit, probably completely transparent about how well that had been going. "I have, yeah. For something that seemed stupid it's been helping. I've been doing it a couple times a day when it crosses my mind and... I don't know, it just puts things into a better perspective. Most of the time the worst that can happen is something stupidly outlandish that never will, the best thing that could happen is way more likely to happen, and the most likely thing is never bad. We've been holding hands in public, he's even kissed me a couple times and it hasn't bothered me. I've even used it for other things. Eddie brought up drafting a few plays for the football team and presenting them to the coach, which isn't my place. Worst that can happen is they assume I think I'm better than them, feel threatened, and try to push me out of my job. Best that can happen is they think the plays are good and start using them. Most likely thing is that they glance over them and maybe incorporate parts into their current plays. So... Yesterday I sat down with the football coach and showed him what I came up with."

By the time their hour was up, Flash was starting to feel better about the nights he had been taking off to spend with Eddie. The guilt was still there, it probably always would be, but it wasn't making him want to cancel the night. Especially when Eddie needed a break just as much as he did. They would continue to make process against Lee Price. Slowly, but they would make it.

 

* * *

 

It started with a playful struggle for the remote. 

Really, Flash didn't care what they watched. He was just glad to be lounging on the couch at Eddie's house, neither one of them thinking about work or investigations. This was a night for them. But Eddie was a little shit and when he jokingly claimed, "We can watch anything  _besides_  ESPN or Hallmark," Flash figured something had to be done. 

So he snatched the remote with a firm, "Cool, we'll watch ESPN2, then." 

Eddie, the naive fool, thought he could actually get the remote back. 

Flash went easy on him, at first just playing defense and keeping the remote away, and Eddie was clearly being  _careful_. Not pushing at Flash too hard to get to the remote and obviously restraining himself to make the playing field seemingly level for his disabled boyfriend. Which was sweet, but every time Eddie pushed, Flash held firm, and slowly Eddie's restraint faded until he was legitimately grappling with Flash for the remote and trying to pin him down on the couch. Given that one of them had extensive military training and one of them didn't, one of them definitely had to play nice but it wasn't Eddie. Both of them kept breaking out into little fits of laughter until they were breathless. Eddie tried to play dirty by tickling. Flash played dirty by kissing him for a distraction. 

It worked. Maybe a little too well. Soon the remote was forgotten somewhere on the floor and both of them were too busy with groaning into each other's mouths to remember what they had been doing previously. Eddie was on top of him and he could taste the salt on his tongue from the chips they had been snacking on, could feel way Eddie's hand tightened on his hip every time Flash's tongue slid against his own, and swallowed down each little sound that came from Eddie when his hair was tugged. 

This time when he felt the half-hard press of Eddie's cock against his hip, the shiver that ran down his spine was just anticipation. It did make him pause, though, and Eddie followed suit, pulling back just enough to read Flash's expression. "All good?" 

Eddie's lips were kiss-swollen and wet, his face flushed and breaths heavy, but it was clear from the look on his face that he would have stopped in a heartbeat if Flash asked him too. How the hell had he managed to snag someone so  _good_? Flash reached up to brush the back of his hand over Eddie's cheek before leaning up to kiss him softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Eddie looked a little confused when the words were paired with a push against his shoulders to gently coax him off but he went with it, sitting up and scooting back to put space between them. The distance was quickly closed, however, and Flash was the one pushing Eddie to lay down and positioning himself to sit across the man's thighs, smirking at the surprised groan that slipped from Eddie and the way his eyes fluttered half-shut. 

"This is good. This is definitely good," he murmured, hands falling to rest on Flash's hips and giving an encouraging squeeze. 

Flash started at the top of Eddie's shirt, slowly working buttons off. "So... I guess it's probably obvious, but I haven't actually been with a guy before," he admitted, his eyes flickering away from the buttons to watch Eddie's face. "I mean. At all. You're the first man I've dated, first one I've kissed, first, uh. Everything, basically. Plenty of girlfriends, but I spent my entire high school and college career in the boy's locker room, snapping towels at a teammate's ass and so deep in repression that I managed to convince myself the thoughts of how good they looked in boxer briefs was a platonic thing. And the Army had the whole don't ask, don't tell... I wasn't willing to consider myself bisexual until I moved here, and even then, uh..." He paused, two buttons left on Eddie's shirt and an amused huff slipping from him. "This is the first time I've ever said it out loud. To someone else. That I'm bi."

Eddie's hands slipped from his hips and curled around the ones fiddling with his shirt button. Flash couldn't read his expression, couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he knew it wasn't anything bad. Just that he was listening, letting Flash ramble about this and offering his support. "That's a big deal. I mean... All of it is a big deal, Flash. I didn't realize I was your first experience with guys, I just assumed maybe you fooled around in college or something and it... Didn't go well." 

Flash shook his head, lips pursed. "Nope. I did my damned best to not even look at another guy and think something flattering about him. Not when my dad could see me drape an arm over a friend while laughing over something he said, not even thinking anything of it, and scream at me for it back home. I just... I didn't let myself ever consider it an option until I was across the country from him and had my mom promising me he was working on getting sober." 

"We don't have to push anything if you don't want to. All things considered, you're doing great with all this. Way better than my first year coming to terms with my sexuality." 

He was tempted to ask about that. But later. "That wasn't what I was getting at, Eddie. I know this is absolutely awful pillow talk, but..." Flash took Eddie's hands, leading them back to his hips and resuming his work on the buttons. "You've been great, you know that, right? Never pushed, never pressured, never seemed put off, you have no idea how much I appreciate that. I used to dump girls after a week if they weren't down for it. I think that's a big reason I'm okay with this right now. I trust you and I... I want to, uh..." 

The last button slipped free and Flash struggled with how to put his thoughts into words in a way that didn't seem awkward. There was something to be said for dating a writer, though. They knew words and feelings. Or at least this one did. A slow smirk tugged at Eddie's lips. "Explore?" he guessed, and Flash let out a soft breath and nodded, glad that Eddie had come up with something better than  _experiment_. Because that wasn't what any of this was. Even when Flash had been balls deep in repressing any and every remotely gay thought, he had still known that he  _liked_  men.

Experimenting implied that there were questions and he was looking for answers. There were no questions. 

Exploring implied he had a general idea of what was there, he just lacked the hands-on experience. 

"Yeah," he murmured as he pressed his palms to Eddie's stomach, slowly sliding them up. "Yeah, that's exactly what I want. I feel comfortable with you, Eddie, and I'd like to explore this. Explore you, specifically." 

Eddie let his eyes fall closed with a pleased smile and Flash could feel the shiver run through him at the slow, deliberate touch. "Consider me honored. Honestly, Flash, I just consider myself lucky that you're willing to put up with me for longer than five minutes at a time. If you decided you never wanted to do this, I would settle for thinking about it in the shower where I can weaponize the acoustics against my neighbors."

Flash chuckled, his hands pausing on Eddie's chest and tracing over the designs of his tattoos. "Now I'm dying to hear about what you do in the shower that has you loud enough to bother your neighbors." Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively as Flash's touch trailed downwards but his teasing cut off quick when, instead of pausing, Flash pushed his hand against the front of Eddie's jeans. The conversation had softened him but the way Eddie's breath hitch and he shifted under the touch told Flash it wouldn't be long to work him back up again and the idea had him biting his lip to hide a pleased grin.

That one reaction alone had Flash too eager to keep up the teasing and he quickly worked to take off Eddie's belt and undo his fly. Eddie seemed just as eager, lifting his hips and helping to wiggle his pants down while also making sure he didn't upend Flash from his sitting position. A needless consideration since the back of the couch provided easy support but it wasn't long until Flash was wrapping his fingers around Eddie's cock and giving it an experimental tug, thrilled with the breathless groan and the way he could feel Eddie coming to life in his grip. 

"Show me what you like." 

Eddie blinked up at him, slowly grinning as he reached down to cover Flash's hand with his own. "You got it, darling."

It was how Flash had gotten through his first time with a woman, back when he had been young and nervous and only pretending to be confident but that question had taught him a lot about how to please a woman and continued to be a question he asked new partners often. So far he had never gotten a bad reception on it and Eddie was no different. 

They took their time, Eddie guiding him through the tight grip he liked, the way he liked it tightened around around the tip just before pushing back down. Flash learned quick and by the time Eddie pulled his hand back, he was breathless and clearly struggling to keep his hips still while Flash slowly drug his thumb over the tip of his cock to spread pre there. His own jeans uncomfortably tight but he was too preoccupied with the way Eddie leaned back, panting through parted lips and whining as Flash slowed down the pace. 

It was much different from touching himself. Eddie wasn't as long but he was pleasantly thicker and there was something very appealing about knowing the heat and weight in his hand wasn't his own cock and that the glazed look in Eddie's eye and every sound pulled from him was a direct result of what Flash was doing. It was like discovering sex all over again and he couldn't help but tease a bit, letting his fingertips trail down further until he could cup Eddie's balls and squeeze softly. Eddie's hips jerked and his breath caught on a shaky gasp but with Eddie's legs pinned under him, he didn't have as much room as he would have liked to continue. And Eddie had different ideas as he squeezed Flash's hips before smoothing his hands down to rest on top of his thighs.

"You look a little uncomfortable there. You mind if I...?" 

"N-No, definitely, go for it."

There was brief fumble with Flash's pants and then Eddie was sitting up to kiss him and push his boxers down, hardly giving Flash time to think about taking off his shirt before he was being pulled close enough that their cocks pressed together. Then thinking was out the window. With a long groan, Flash was rutting his hips forward and the rest of the time was spent with him desperately clutching at the back of Eddie's neck with one hand and keeping his other wrapped around their cocks, moving in time with Eddie's hand. It was messy and rushed, both of them too caught up with each other to do more than pant against each other's mouths between wordless noises of approval and the occasional kiss that was more of an absent-minded brush of parted lips. Eddie's other hand was on his ass, coaxing the movements of his hips quicker or harder or sometimes just squeezing because it would make Flash's breath hitch around a moan. 

It was about on par for all of Flash's other first times. Nothing drawn out and romantic, just the hot press of bodies and two people taking as much pleasure in each other as they could. Flash ducked his head into the crook of Eddie's neck when he got close enough that the rhythm of his hips started to falter and his teeth dug into Eddie's shoulder when he spilled over in an attempt to stifle a cry. It muffled his but only resulted in Eddie's next groan pitching louder as his hips jerked forward and he came too. 

They stroked each other through it and then for a long few minutes afterwards they stayed wrapped up in each other, panting and trying to catch their breaths.

Eddie was the one that tipped them over and though he made sure he caught himself so he could lower himself down against Flash instead of falling on him, he didn't seem to have any issue resting his full weight on the man. Which definitely wasn't a problem. The bigger problem was that Eddie's messy hand slipped up the back of his shirt, smearing cum against his skin and Flash was too out of it to do more than crinkle his nose and mutter, "Gross, Eddie."

Eddie chuckled and nuzzled into the crook of Flash's neck. "Better get used to it, babe. You mark your territory by biting, I mark mine other ways." 

Flash pulled back just enough to lock Eddie's smirking face with a very concerned look, not sure where to even begin with that statement, until he noticed that the bite on Eddie's shoulder was a bit harder than he had been intending and was already bruising around the teeth marks. "Oh shit... Sorry about that." 

"I'm not," Eddie replied, pulling him back down for lingering kiss. "Pretty sure I left bruises on your ass so that was just retaliation." 

**He did. We're keeping them.**

The symbiote had been silent through all that but now that Flash was back to remembering its presence, he could feel how satisfied it was. It was currently basking in whatever chemical release came from their release, feeling like a fat cat lazing in the afternoon sunlight. Flash huffed against Eddie's lips and settled back down against his side. 

That's how they stayed for a long time. Eddie's hand smoothed up and down his spine under his shirt, even after the mess had dried against his skin. Flash absently traced over the black outlines of ink along Eddie's pectoral, feeling sweaty, sticky, gross, and stupidly comfortable with it. He wasn't sure how long it was before he broke the silence with a soft, "Hey Eddie?" and from the way Eddie shifted and stretched out under him, he had probably roused him from a light doze, but he still hummed for Flash to continue. "You said you struggled with your sexuality, too. Do you mind... Telling me about it?"

"I was raised incredibly Catholic," Eddie answered with a relaxed chuckle as he nuzzled into Flash's hair. "I'm talking so Catholic I'm surprised I never met Daredevil back in New York with how often that guy tends to hang out on top of churches like some kind of blasphemous gargoyle. Catholicism doesn't agree well with the whole bisexual thing, to absolutely no one's surprise. I spent most of my teenage years consumed with the typical Catholic guilt over it and once I moved to New York for college, I decided to do the normal college thing and go to frat parties, experiment,  and figure out what I liked. Which, uh... Wasn't great, actually. Most of the times ended with me doing what you did the first time. Panicking, crying, and running for the nearest confession booth the next morning." Eddie pressed a kiss to his hair and Flash could feel the way his mouth was curved into a soft smile. "Compared to me, you're handing your sexuality very well. I'm really glad I could help, Flash." 

Flash tucked himself closer against Eddie, letting his eyes fall shut. It was hard to imagine Eddie not being anything but comfortable and experienced with men. "Thanks," he murmured. "If you can get to the point where you're so comfortable with it, I guess there's hope for me too." 

"Oh definitely." Eddie's arm tightened around him. "I'm glad you trusted me with this." 

Flash was too. And he had been telling the truth. He  _trusted_  Eddie. Closing his eyes, he tuned into the warm feeling of the symbiote settling in his chest. He didn't have to formulate any thought or put words to what he was feeling, the symbiote knew. 

 **Yes. Eddie deserves to know.**  It paused while it sorted through some of the concerns that immediately came to Flash's mind. **Later, not now. Wait until the next time you two decide to work. You should tell him, not us, and before it gets late so that... If he decides he needs time to think on his own, he doesn't have to walk home in the dark.**  

It would be nice to tell someone about them. To let the symbiote enjoy Eddie's presence just as much. To be open and honest and not have anything hanging over them. Flash found himself looking forward to it more than he dreaded it.

 

* * *

 

Eddie came into work the next morning whistling a tune that had been stuck in his head since waking up. Cho's brows rose in surprise as she watched him saunter his way to his seat with his coffee in hand, still grinning. 

"Someone's a good mood," she noted. 

He winked at her. "It's been a good morning, no reason to not be in a good mood." He flopped down into his chair, pausing when he saw an envelope on his keyboard. He snagged it, flipping it over and frowning when he saw his name written on the front out of magazine-cut letters. "What's this?" 

She hummed and shrugged. "Don't know. It's been there for the past couple of days you were out hitting the pavement." 

"Looks a little, uh... Ransom-y." He flipped the envelope over in his hands, amused. "Sure hope there's no one claiming they kidnapped a loved one 'cause I know for a fact anyone worth kidnapping in my life has been safe and sound this weekend. The kidnapper would be shit out of luck." 

"Why Eddie!" Cho gasped at him. "Here I thought you had ruined all your interpersonal relationships like a  _true_  journalist."

He grinned widely. "Oh fuck off!" When she didn't respond right away he glanced up to see her staring at him, looking genuinely intrigued. "What?" 

"Nothing," she answered in a tone that implied it was definitely not nothing and that Eddie should prepare himself for her next words. "Just wondering when you managed to get over Anne. Last I remember, jokes about your interpersonal relationships used to be a sore spot for you." 

Oh. Yeah. That one hadn't hit nearly as hard. Eddie fiddled with the envelope, a small smile on his lips. "I, uh. Might have been seeing someone else for the past few months. And it's going really well. So. Yeah, I guess maybe I am moving on." 

For all her talk, Cho was a nice woman. She actually looked satisfied over Eddie's happiness, though it was pretty short lived before she was rolling herself closer to his desk conspiratorially. "Oh, I do have news. I spoke to my source in the SFPD. Your article wasn't talking about his station but he says it's been causing a lot of waves. Not only was the internal investigation reopened, but there's a rumor that Homeland Security might get involved if people keep talking. You're stirring the pot, Eddie. Keep it up." She gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before winking and scooting back over to her own desk. "Now tell me about this girl that you're dating. Full name, you know I love details." 

Eddie laughed and rolled his eyes at her. "I am not giving you  _his_  full name." 

"His? Oh, spicy. Or should I say... Bicy." 

He turned his attention to the envelope, frowning heavily as he opened it. "Uh... You definitely shouldn't, even if it is accurate. It just sounds dumb. Sorry." 

"You're no fun. Watch the secrets, Eddie, or I might start investigating your private life when I'm bored." 

She turned back to her computer, missing the way Eddie's expression dropped as he glanced over the letter. More magazine-cut letters, this time spelling out his address and the message, "STOP BEING NOSY BEFORE SOMEONE FORCES YOU TO STOP." He took a quick glance around the office to see if anyone happened to notice the letter and then quickly folded it back up and shoved it into the envelope, his heart pounding in his ears at the reminder that he wasn't dealing with some angry CEO with money this time. He was dealing with gangs and the criminal underworld, and as Cho had put it, he was stirring the pot.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't apologize for anything I do, ever.

They expected Eddie to be asleep at four in the morning. The plan was to just drop by his apartment, leave the folder full of pictures and the flashdrive of recordings on his counter top, and leave. They had a work date set up for tomorrow afternoon anyway and that was when they were going to tell him about  _them_ , they just wanted to give him something to look through first in case the conversation didn't go as well as they were hoping it would. If Eddie wanted to leave, they didn't want to be awkwardly handing him a folder and muttering about the investigation. 

Granted, Flash really did feel optimistic about this. Uncharacteristically optimistic, maybe even foolishly hopeful, but... He really thought it would go well.

Instead of a dark apartment, however, the lights were still on and when they peeked through the window, Eddie was looking at something on his computer. They waited for him to put down the mug of coffee before they snuck a tendril through the window and cracked it open, thinking it was best to avoid startling him and risk ruining his computer. Sure enough, the creak of it had him jumping and cursing when he saw it was just Agent Venom, as per usual, slipping in through the window. 

"Late night?" they asked.

Eddie huffed and shut his computer, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah, something like that. We really need to find a way for you to give me heads-up, man. Send me a letter or tie a bell around your neck, something." He paused, frowning. "You don't usually stop in this late. Uh... Early?" 

Poor guy looked stressed. He might have lost track of time if the way his shoulders slumped when he glanced at the clock was anything to go by. "It was a late night for me too. I just came by to drop off something." A tendril peeled away from his back, taking the file with it and offering it out to Eddie. Curiously, he sat up and grabbed it, flipping through the pictures silently and fiddling with the drive. He... Didn't look as pleased as they thought he would. After all, there was a ton of evidence against three of the officers they knew he hadn't had a chance to tail yet. They were pretty much handing him another article that would destroy the credibly of another station Newman had been buying off. "What, are the pictures not up to standard?" 

"What? Yeah, no. I mean. They're great. You went out and investigated for me? Thought we agreed you would keep tagging Price's shit?" He shut the folder and sat back, brow furrows

Something was up. Eddie was usually psyched when they handed over information he could work with. "I can multitask." They crossed their arms, locking Eddie with a flat, blank stare. The kind that usually got him squirming in his seat. "What's with the hesitation?" 

Eddie tried to meet the stare head-on. He got through about five solid seconds before he huffed and leaned forward to trade out the folder of evidence for the folded up paper he had on his coffee table, offering it to Agent Venom. One look at the page and they were both prickling with alarm. Quite literally, their form subtly spiking in areas before settling down and their eyes narrowing at the cut-out message. It was one thing for Eddie to put himself in needlessly dangerous situations, it was another to have someone coming to him and leaving threats. They moved to sit down on the couch with Eddie, setting the letter aside. "Any idea who sent it?" 

"No clue," he answered with a helpless gesture towards the note. "I haven't really told anyone about it. I can tell you one thing, I have no intention of stopping the investigation. So... Thanks. For the evidence. Really, I appreciate it. I'm just trying to figure out how I can go about publishing it without... You know. Drawing attention to myself." 

"Eddie Brock, trying to play it safe?" 

His grin was a little lackluster. "I know, shocking. But I have someone who would be a little upset if I stopped turning up."

It was dumb but the comment had their eyes curving up just the slightest as it dawned on both of them how much less reckless Eddie had been lately. That had been because of them. It was touching and sweet and Flash kind of wanted to kiss him right then and there. But no, tomorrow. Not at four in the morning when Eddie was dealing with other things. 

"The pictures aren't going anywhere," they pointed out. "Hold on to them for now. Keep your head down until you can figure out to publish this without putting anymore of a target on your back." 

Eddie being more careful was one thing but they couldn't start hoping for too much. The second they said it, Eddie was shaking his head, but hey, they had to try. "No, I'm actually making progress here, Agent. Rumor has it, Homeland Security might step in if another fuss is made. This might do it. The sooner I get it out there, the sooner you can start locking more people up, and the sooner I don't have this hanging over my head." 

They had to trust that Eddie knew what he was doing but that didn't mean they couldn't help. More than as Agent Venom, at least. For the moment they just nodded, accepting what Eddie was saying, but tomorrow... They could give him somewhere safe to stay for a bit until all of this blew over. Either before they told him or after, whenever it came up. 

"Just be safe, alright? I get that this is important to you, but you have more going for you than just your career." 

They stood to leave, pausing when Eddie's hand darted out to grab theirs. Eddie froze, as if he had even surprised himself with the action, then he cleared his throat and slowly pulled back. "Yeah, uh... You too. I mean. You always seem to be out working, and now you're even picking up my slack. Just. You're allowed to have a life outside the vigilante thing too." 

For a long few seconds they stared at Eddie, then he started to fidget and they caught themselves before they could start making him uncomfortable again. "I do." 

"I don't just mean a job to pay bills and everything," he added. "I mean an actual life. I'm sure it isn't easy with your alien buddy, but you deserve to have that. With friends and, uh. People to get close to. Do you... Have that? Like... Family and stuff? People you tell your secrets to? Who are you closest to in your life?" 

Oh boy. 

They gestured absently towards Eddie. "You, to be honest. You're the one I'm closest to." 

Eddie leaned back with a wince, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Wow, that's, uh... No offense, but that's kind of sad. You only got close to me in the first place because your alien has a crush on me."

"You asked." It would make more sense tomorrow, of course. For now, they were just vaguely amused. Ah, the irony. A beautiful thing, made even better at four in the morning. They took a step towards the window again, stopping again when Eddie sighed. 

"Wait." He wasn't looking at them. He kind of looked like he would rather be anywhere but sitting on his couch talking to them, but more in the way a kid would rather be anywhere but at the dinner table while their parents swapped embarrassing stories about them. Finally he lifted his eyes. "Listen... This whole letter thing has me a little freaked out, I'll admit. I've had people threaten my career plenty of times but never something like this. I'm tired but every time I try to sleep, I just..." 

Shit. 

Sometimes they forgot Eddie was a human civilian. One that rushed into danger without regard for his own safety, all for the sake of a story, but still just a human civilian. 

He was  _scared._  They had never seen Eddie scared before, not like this, but now that they were looking they could see it in his hesitate gaze, in the tension running through his shoulders, in the way he kept glancing at the open window. A tendril snuck out to close it and Agent Venom moved to sit back down on the couch. "Would it help if I stayed?" 

The relief had Eddie slumping even as he murmured an awkward, "I'm sure you have other things to do." 

"Not really."

A few tendrils extended from his shoulder, looping around Eddie's wrist and his hand to squeeze them. Eddie smiled softly at them. "Hey there, V. I'm okay, but thanks for the support, pal." 

The symbiote wanted to help and comfort just as much as Flash did and for a second Flash was prepared to pull back his control to give the symbiote some time with Eddie but before he could, symbiotic webbing was seeping from his thigh and crawling over Eddie's leg, blanketing his lap and keeping attached to Agent Venom's thigh. It was like some weird, demented mold spreading very quickly but Eddie just blinked at it. At least until the portion across his thighs started bubbling up and expanding, taking on a shape. Then he leaned back and shot Agent Venom a questioning look.

Two white eyes appeared on the gooey blob in his lap, staring up at him.

Eddie stared back. 

The eyes curled into squinted crescents. 

Eddie let out a soft gasp. "Holy shit, V?" It wiggled, letting out a purr that was much less rumbly in this form while Flash had Agent Venom chuckling. 

"Like I said before, its shape is pretty flexible depending on what it wants to do." 

Flash watched as Eddie carefully reached down and tried to scoop the gooey blob into his arms. Part of it stretched, staying connected to the larger mass at all times, but the pleased curve of its eyes and the encouraging noises never stopped so Eddie gladly cradled the melty mass in his arms. "He's adorable. Oh my god, I didn't know he came in a not-terrifying fun size." He looked absolutely thrilled as the symbiote partially melted in his hold. Then the mouth stretched open to reveal teeth and tongue and Eddie's smile faltered. "Okay, maybe not less terrifying, but still very adorable. Are you trying to comfort me? You're doing great." 

Watching Eddie discover new things about the symbiote was always intriguing. He was never freaked out for long and he was always so careful and  _nice_. Everything Eddie did made it clear he viewed the symbiote as a separately thinking and feeling entity and Flash loved it when the symbiote did something that had Eddie lighting up like this, amazed and awed by the strangeness of the creature. 

It webbed itself across Eddie's chest and then rose up like a snake, wrapping itself behind the human's neck and nuzzling under his chin. Then nuzzling a bit more insistently until it was gently pushing Eddie towards Agent Venom. He laughed, letting it adjust him until it was forcing him to lay his head down on their lap where it could then stretch the webbing out further across Eddie like a living blanket. 

" **Sleep** ," it hummed, settling back into a blob on Eddie's chest and fixing wide, opalescent eyes on Eddie. It didn't have a mouth but the words were clearly coming from it. " **We will keep you safe.** " 

Eddie softened, glancing between Agent Venom's gently curved eyes to the more organic ones on the symbiote, then he reached up and gave the little blob a gentle pat on the head. "Thank you. Both of you. This is... Weird. But I feel better." 

A tendril slipped away to turn off lights and Eddie was exhausted enough to fall asleep easily. Admittedly, so was Flash. The symbiote watched silently over them, this time formed over both of its humans instead of hidden inside one of them. It was quite pleased by the change of arrangement.

 

* * *

 

Eddie didn't say a word as he hastily slipped inside Flash's apartment the second the door was open, casting anxious glances behind him as he went, and they instantly knew what the first topic of the day was going to be. "Hey, uh... Is everything alright?" He shut the door and turned his chair to face Eddie, who looked like he was about to start pacing the floor with how nervous and on-edge he was. He had been anxious when they left him that morning, awkwardly offering pancakes that were admittedly hard to say no to, but they had chalked that up to Eddie feeling weird about spending the night curled up in the lap of a vigilante. 

Now it was worse, though Eddie tried to cover it with a strained smile as he clasped his hands together. "Yeah, sure, it's great. Ready to get to work?" 

Flash sat back in his chair, lips pursed skeptically. "Does work include telling me what has you so riled up?" 

At least Eddie gave up the act easily. He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as he shrugged off his laptop case and moved to start setting up on the couch. "It's nothing you need to worry about. Just some drama going on at work." 

It was an almost impressive downplay. Flash pushed himself to the edge of the couch but stayed in his chair, watching as Eddie did his best to keep his eyes on his laptop and paperwork, studiously ignoring Flash's stare. 

Guess it was a damn good thing Flash was already used to Eddie's stubbornness.

"How about you tell me about it?" he suggested when the silence stretched on and it became clear that Eddie wasn't going to break it. "You help me with stuff at work, maybe I can help with this." 

"No." The answer was immediate but Eddie was slow to look over at him, brows creased apologetically but a firm set to his jaw. "No, really, this isn't something I want you involved with, okay?" 

That was a great opening for Flash to admit that he was already involved, that he knew what the  _work drama_  was, but he hesitated. Eddie was a good person but like everyone else, he had a way of underestimating the guy in the wheelchair. A part of him wanted to see if he could convince Eddie as himself and not because he had proven himself a capable vigilante with the help of an alien. 

It was a pride thing.

"It's something dangerous, then," he murmured, and when Eddie tried to look away again and make excuses, Flash reached out and grabbed his hands, giving them a tight squeeze. "Look, I get it. I might not know much about this journalism stuff but you put the truth out there for the public and not everyone likes that. I'm sure things can get a little risky sometimes. Just talk to me, Eddie. What's going on?" 

He knew he won the second Eddie sighed and lifted Flash's hands to press a kiss against his knuckles. "I've been writing about police corruption in the city and my latest article might have caused a stir," he admitted. He was still trying to downplay it, shrugging loosely as if it was no big deal. "Either someone broke into the Fact Sheet offices or a coworker decided to leave me a letter with my apartment address and a threatening note to scare me off. It won't scare me off and most of the time threats like that aren't acted on, it just has me a bit... Edgy." 

"They have your address?" 

"I mean... I'm kind of a public figure and google is free. It wouldn't be that hard."

Flash nodded and pulled Eddie's hands back into his lap. "That's still scary, Eddie. Home is where you're supposed to feel safe and I'd imagine it's a little hard to feel safe there after that. What if... You stayed with me for a bit?" 

"Flash--" 

It was a protest, he could tell immediately from the tone and the way Eddie's expression pinched, so Flash quickly cut him off. "No one is going to bother looking up the address of a disabled high school gym coach and even if they did, I don't put my address out there very often. They're going to have a much harder time finding me unless they literally tail you, in which case they already know--" 

" _Flash_." The way Eddie clutched at his hands and the near panicked edge to his voice had him cutting off and blinking. This time Eddie didn't avoid his gaze and somehow that was worse, seeing the legitimate fear there, anxiety bleeding in his tone and quickening his words. "No, babe, no, I can't do that, okay? I've already lost one very important relationship to my career and I'm not going to lose another one. I can't, alright? I can't risk losing this and the further you are from my career, the less of a chance it's going to fuck up everything for us. 

Ah. Realization dawned on him and he let out a soft exhale, nodding slowly. "Right, uh... Anne." 

Eddie froze. "You... Know about that?" 

He almost,  _almost_  regretted mentioning it. Not because it ruined his whole dumb act when it came to Eddie's career, because he had been planning on ruining it anyway, but because of how fragile Eddie sounded. Like he expected everything to crumble around them in light of this topic. 

Flash ran a soothing thumb over the back of Eddie's hand. "Yeah, I did some research. I know you tried to protect her by claiming you were working off of a hunch and didn't have a source to back up your information. But when your fiancee is part of a legal team working on the cases you mentioned, it's not hard to figure out who gave you the information. Still... It kind of worked. She was fired from her firm but she wasn't disbarred and her name wasn't smeared across the city like yours was. It's still bound to strain a relationship, though."

A single, humorless chuckle slipped from Eddie as he carefully pulled his hands away from Flash, once again avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, uh. All of that is speculation you probably read online but... Annie refused to comment on anything, which was  _way_  kinder than I deserved, and I kept claiming I didn't have a source so it's all just speculation, Flash. The only thing Annie ever told me was the password to her computer."

"What?" 

The very first thing was caution. He could tell what Eddie was hinting at but circumstances and details were important. Flash absolutely refused to jump to conclusions until there was an explanation.

"I had her computer password," Eddie repeated reluctantly as he absent picked on the hem of his hoodie sleeve. "I didn't purpose go looking for information but... The network I was working for wanted me to interview Carlton Drake, they wanted me to play nice with him even though that's not what I  _do_. And Drake... He just, he felt off, there was something off about him, I just didn't know what so when I was up one night and saw that Annie had gotten an email about some class action lawsuit against the Life Foundation, I logged in to see what it was." 

Okay. Not a great situation but Flash knew about the Life Foundation secondhand from the symbiote and it wasn't a pretty picture. He knew what Eddie had found in the email, the unethical drug trials and the high mortality rate of Drake's volunteers that made it clear he was pushing human trials way before they were ready. It was a big deal. Something that would be hard for any decent person to stand silent on if they were face to face with the guy, let alone someone like Eddie, who had built his whole life around getting information like that out to the public. 

"And you found out you were right about Drake being  _off_ ," Flash prompted softly. "I saw the leaked footage of the interview. I know what you found in her email." 

Eddie nodded. "Yeah. He was getting people killed. Drug testing is an extensive and time-consuming process to make sure it's safe long before they even get to human trials, and Drake had blown through all that. He was expecting me to talk about his space program, I thought if I brought up the lawsuits, it would throw him off. Especially when he's been careful not to let them leak to the public. And... The Life Foundation was a  _huge_  thing during that time. They ran practically the city and world-wide pharmaceuticals. I thought about not saying anything, I'm not dumb, you know? I knew Anne could lose everything but I just kept thinking about being the reporter that showed the world what the Life Foundation really was, being the one to expose this... It would affect everyone in San Francisco and to a lesser degree, everywhere else too. Working for the network put my name across the city but something like this would have opened up a global scale for me. It's the type of shit CNN reporters get up to on their weekends off." 

The discomfort Flash felt at the words wasn't just his own. "So it wasn't only about getting the truth out there, you were thinking about your career too." 

"Well  _yeah._ " Eddie gestured absently, like the answer was obvious. "That's a big part of journalism, Flash. The bigger your name, the more impact you make. People start bringing stories to you specifically because they know your work. It's how you get international broadcasting companies offering you segments instead of local news stations. It helps you build rapport with sources, it's how you get Pulitzer nominations. Journalism is about the getting the truth out there, definitely, but it's also a highly competitive field that you have to claw your way into getting more than fluff pieces for and if Drake hadn't of systematically ruined my life afterwards, reporting on the Life Foundation would have put me leagues above investigative journalists that have been in the field ten years longer than I have. Yeah, I was thinking about my career."

That alone had Flash hesitant about their original plan for the day but Eddie had to continue. 

"Hell, it probably would have been bigger. You know the Army better than I do, but from what I know, they usually leave unethical drug trials to the feds to deal with but not even a month later they were storming the head office of the Life Foundation here and shutting the whole place down. No one's heard from Drake since and there's been nothing in the news about it. It's now considered military property but it's been empty since they got everything they wanted out of it." Flash felt a cold sweep of dread when Eddie paused and frowned. He could practically see the gears turning and pieces falling into place. "You know... I'm willing to bet it's not a coincidence that six months later, San Francisco is getting a new vigilante. So yeah, we can add that to the list of things I could have reported on if Drake didn't pay off half the damn city to smear my name."

Eddie flopped back on the couch with a frustrated sigh, pushing the heel of his hands against his eyes. The symbiote was silent and cautiously still within Flash, both of them sharing the same sense of unease. He reminded himself that the rant was nothing more than anxious, frustrated rambling. It made him wonder if this was the first time Eddie had talked to anyone about what really happened. And it was a comfort that he mentioned nothing about the information to help him connect the dots. That Agent Venom had admitted to being part of an Army program and was partially an alien. 

Still. It made one thing very clear. Telling Eddie about them wasn't a good idea. 

Not when those speculative articles online all seemed to agree on Eddie and Anne being college sweethearts. Years together. Eddie had known the risk to Anne and still thought it was worth it. Maybe in hindsight he realized it wasn't. Still, when he dropped his hands and mattered, "I get that this doesn't have much to do with the current situation, but it's just safer if I keep you and us as far from my career as possible," both him and the symbiote were in reluctant agreement with it. 

At least when it came to matters of Agent Venom. 

Flash took a deep, steadying breath. The revelation had shaken him up and changed his outlook on a few things, sure, but a past mistake and some high ambitions weren't going to change their relationship unless they were acted on. 

"It is a different situation, Eddie," he agreed softly. "If you want to keep our relationship separate from your career, that's fine. I don't press about work matters, you're vague about your investigations, it doesn't bother me. You staying here for safety reasons isn't involving me in your case. And... Maybe it's not entirely for safety reasons, maybe I'm also offering because I like having you around." 

It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood and it didn't work. Eddie's smile was a miserable, apologetic thing as he shook his head. "I would be involving you, though. I might be leading people right to your doorstep and I don't want to do that, Flash. You're important to me and I don't want to put you in danger." 

"I can handle danger, Eddie." Under normal circumstances, Flash would have understood the skeptical look, but something about it paired with the sudden questions of how much he could trust Eddie were a little much and he set his jaw stubbornly, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Go ahead, man. If you have an argument, let's hear it. Give me one good reason why you think I can't handle this." 

"Oh c'mon." Eddie groaned as he sat up and leaned over his knees towards Flash. "Please don't make me say it. I don't want to be the asshole here."

There was no sympathy or mercy in this game. "No, if anyone is going to be the asshole here, it's me, because I'm going to make you say it. Why do you think I can't handle whatever trouble you've gotten yourself in?"

There was a silent stare down. Eddie tried to play the pity card against Flash's firm gaze, looking reluctant and pained, and while Flash knew it was all genuine and not some fabricated manipulation tactic, he refused to give in. Finally Eddie sighed and ducked his head. "Jesus... Look. I'm already painting a target on my back and bringing a recorder to a gun fight," he murmured. Which was sweet. It proved that their words that night had gotten through to him and maybe having Flash wasn't Eddie's only reason for not being quite as reckless. "That's bad enough without me dragging a guy in a wheelchair along for the ride." 

Flash reached forward and gave Eddie's knee a soft squeeze. "You're an idiot, Eddie. If you were coming in here demanding that I let you stay because you're not safe in your own home, then yeah, you would be dragging me. I'm offering, so it's more like I'm following you to the gun fight. And it would be a very smart thing for you to let me do that."

"Flash... Come on, babe, I'm being serious about this. These people are--" While Eddie talked, Flash had carefully leaned over and started feeling around under the edge of the couch. Eddie's sentence cut off abruptly when he saw the handgun Flash retrieved and casually set on the coffee table. Without a word, Flash turned himself towards the kitchen, Eddie hastily getting up to follow. "Is that, uh... Loaded?" 

"Yep. Don't worry, I keep them very well maintained." 

There was a pause before Eddie hesitantly repeated, "Them?"

Flash reached in the small gap between the fridge and the counter top, pulling out another handgun to set out on the counter. "Mhm." He moved to the bedroom next, Eddie stunned silent as he followed to watch Flash retrieve the third from under his bed, sitting that one on top of the covers before moving to open his closet door and point at a black bag sitting on the floor by his rolled up collection of posters. "Technically there's one in every room besides the bathroom because moisture doesn't mix well with handguns. They're all cleaned, oiled, and loaded on a regular schedule. I lost my legs, Eddie, but that doesn't mean I lost the any of my military and combat training. If you're going to bring a recorder to a gun fight you can at least take along someone with several firearms and extensive experience with being in the middle of actual gun fights. It's called backup and it's a smart thing to have. People usually call it in when their life is threatened." 

Eddie looked like he was at a loss for words as he stared between Flash and the black bag tucked in the closet. He started to open his mouth to say something several times but after second-guessing himself the third time he just sighed and moved to kneel in front of Flash's chair. "Alright, clearly my analogy worked more in your favor than it did in mine. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to imply that you weren't... Capable. Okay? Clearly you're way more prepared for a potential shit storm than I am. Which is both relieving and worrying. Have you talked to your therapist about why you feel the need to have a loaded gun in every room of your apartment?" 

Flash rolled his eyes. "Yes, Eddie. I have. Unsurprisingly, the official diagnosis was PTSD. Victim-related, to be specific, but I've been told I also fit the bill for two other types. They just don't usually result in someone feeling safer with loaded weapons in easy reach." 

"Right. Dumb question." 

"Little bit, yeah," Flash agreed. Eddie did earn himself a little bit of sympathy with the rightly chastened look on his face and Flash took his hands with a sigh. "I know you're just trying to protect me. That's what I'm trying to do too. I don't want to lose you anymore than you want to lose me, Eddie." He could tell it wasn't convincing him, though. That it would take a lot for Eddie to risk this. Logic hardly ever worked in the face of fear and Flash knew a losing battle when he saw one. He gave Eddie's hands a tight squeeze. "At least take a spare key, alright? If you need somewhere to go, you can always come here." 

It was a compromise and like all compromises, neither one of them was necessarily satisfied with it but Eddie relented with a sigh and leaned forward rest his cheek against the top of Flash's thighs. "Alright, fine." There was a long moment where they stayed like that, Flash stroking through Eddie's hair while the man worked through whatever was going on in his head. Maybe he was just taking a moment of comfort. Flash gave it to him, right up until Eddie tilted his head to glance up at him with a hesitant smile. "So when can I make a joke about you packing heat?" 

"And we're done now. The moment is over." Flash gently pushed him back, trying to hide a smile. 

Eddie didn't bother hiding his. "Excuse me, sir, do you have a concealed weapons permit for that massive firearm in your pocket? Oh, it's not a firearm? You're just happy to see me? _Wow_ \--" 

"I will run you over with my chair, so help me god."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the stubborn need to learn lessons the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delay because I have to do things that make money sometimes. It's rough trying to work for yourself.

Even though they were creeping close to four months together, they were still learning new things about Eddie. 

"Would you-- Stop laughing at me, please!" 

Agent Venom's eyes curved up in amusement. They were standing on the ground, arms crossed, looking up at Eddie's valiant attempt to scale the fire escape without looking down. He had made it up three stories so far and he was starting to look a little pale. His hands had started trembling on the second story. 

"I'm not laughing," they answered but there was too much humor in their voice for Eddie to take them seriously. He huffed and started up the next set of stairs without another word. Resisting the urge to  _actually_  laugh at Eddie, they started up after him. Just in a more Spider-Man-like style instead of taking the fire escape. The symbiote matter gripped the brick easily, sliding into cracks to hold their weight and then slipping back out like water when they lifted their hands or the toe of their boot. "Don't worry, if you fall, I'll catch you." Eddie glanced over at them, only looking grateful until they added, "Probably by your ankle, a few inches off the ground. Can't let you feel too safe when we're doing something this risky."

Eddie's gaze narrowed and he quickly started back up the fire escape. "You both are dicks, I hope you know that. I don't like heights, okay? They're awful. I get really bad vertigo. Not all of us were designed to go swinging between buildings and sulking on rooftops like Daredevil. You know, for someone who dresses up like the devil and hangs out on churches like a blasphemous gargoyle, I'm pretty sure he's actually really Catholic."

They snorted softly and kept their climbing pace to match with Eddie's. At least the conversation seemed like a good distraction. "How do you know that Daredevil is Catholic?" 

"I grew up in a Catholic atmosphere, man. I know the signs. Only a devote Catholic would be dramatic enough to fight crime in a devil costume and hang out on top of Catholic churches. And it's only Catholic churches." 

Eddie hadn't looked down since they started talking, which was good since they were nearing the top and the last thing they needed was for Eddie to have a mild panic attack on the side of an abandoned apartment complex.  "It's the tall spires," they pointed out. "Have you ever seen a Presbyterian church with tall spires? He's going for irony and height."

"I'm sure there are mosques or something that have tall spires too. I'm telling you, Daredevil is Catholic. My investigative senses are hardly ever wrong about that kind of thing." Spoke too soon, Eddie glanced down and paused, seeming to waver on the spot when he saw just how far down the dim alleyway was below him. They paused at his side, watching him carefully in case they needed to step in. For all the teasing, they didn't want to push Eddie too far out of his comfort zone. He swallowed and then turned his attention back to them. "So, uh... Does your kind have any sort of religion, V?" 

His next couple of steps up were shaky before he fell back into a slow rhythm on the metal stairs. 

"Not sure if you could call it a religion. Its kind imprisoned their god in the core of their planet because he was a massive dick."

Eddie seemed to contemplate that for a second then nodded in understanding. "Yeah, alright, that's valid. I've read Revelations enough times to understand the motivations there."

The symbiote had to search through Flash's memories to figure out what Eddie was talking about. His memories of Sunday School were hazy at best but it was enough to translate the apocalyptic tone and some of the actions of their supposed loving but wrathful God. It wasn't too impressed. Mainly because the Catholic god of Revelations had stuck to his own planet to destroy and didn't seem interested in looking towards conquering the rest of the universe. Anything less than that was a bit weak in the symbiote's opinion. 

They reached the rooftop and Eddie scrambled on up and immediately backed himself away from the edge with a shaky breath as they followed him over the lip and back onto a horizontal surface. Poor guy, he got stuck with the job that actively worked against him this time. They took Eddie's shoulders in a firm but gentle grip and started leading him to the other side of the roof. "Are you sure you can handle this, Eddie? We can figure out something else besides sticking you up here on a sniper's position." 

"Yeah, uh... It's totally fine. I won't enjoy this but I can handle it." 

On the other side of the apartment, across the street, was their target. At one point the building had been a water treatment plant and the area still smelled like reclaimed sprinkler water. Like most things in the several block stretch of this area, it had been shut down. Unlike the building they were standing on and a few others, it hadn't been condemned yet and just a few weeks ago had been bought out by Newman. It hadn't been publicly announced but Eddie was a snoop and he liked to go through budget reports. Unlike Agent Venom, he knew what was suspicious and what was just government nonsense. According to the official reports, this was part of Newman's plan to clean up the neighborhood but a project like that should have been a public announcement and include more than just an old water treatment plant that he then handed over to some small shell company that sold it to a private investor in less than a handful of days. 

Now it was buzzing with activity during the day, equipment moving in and out to renovate the place, which wouldn't have aroused suspicion but it was Price's men that were at work and after keeping an eye on the place for the past week, he had seen Lee Price himself heading in and out several times throughout the day. 

It was hard to tell what was going on inside, but knowing Price, it had to be something illegal. 

Eddie hesitated when they got close enough to the lip of the roof that the ground was coming into view but after a deep, steadying breath he pushed forward until he could kneel by the edge and raise his camera up. An actual camera, something that looked too fancy and expensive to have hanging around his neck as comfortably as Eddie seemed with it. He pointed the camera at the building, framing it on screen before fiddling with the zoom and different modes until he had a surprisingly clear shot of one of the men leaving the building despite the distance and dim glow of the streetlights at dusk. 

"How come you don't use that camera all the time? Seems better than a grainy phone shot."

Eddie gave him a flat look. "Because this thing is expensive and I get myself into trouble, that's why. Besides, if I'm sneaking in somewhere to grab evidence, I blend in more with a phone. People see the camera and they know I'm taking pictures, but a phone is subtle and I can pretend I'm just texting. Convenience of modern tech, Agent. It's revolutionized my field. But... I am glad I have a good reason to pull this baby out." He stroked a finger lovingly down the side with a slight smile. 

Cute. 

Agent Venom settled down on the roof next to him, arms folded on the small ledge to rest their chin on. "Price's car isn't there yet, so we'll have to wait, but he shouldn't be long. He seems like the type to micromanage." 

"The mark of a guy who knows what he wants and doesn't trust anyone else to do it right," Eddie muttered. He turned his away from the view, leaning back against the ledge instead. "Let me know when the action is going to start, then. I'm going to pretend I'm back on solid ground." 

"Good luck." 

And now for the waiting. The worst part of the job. Or it was, back when they were doing it alone, but it felt different with Eddie there. It reminded them of work nights when Flash would get done grading papers but Eddie still had work he was doing. He would have the TV on, volume low, but it was background noise he hardly paid attention to. Instead he would listen to Eddie flipping through his notes or the clicking of his laptop keys as he wrote. There was a gentle comfort in sitting side by side with someone in silence, each doing their own thing while being aware of the other presence in the room. No pressure. No need to rush. Maybe a stray comment every once in awhile before lapsing back into their tasks. 

It actually took a bit of restraint not to lean over against Eddie or reach out and touch him like they would at home. 

"Shame it's too bright to see the stars." They glanced over at the sound of Eddie's voice to see him with his head tipped back, squinting up at the darkening sky. They had to wonder if he felt the same kind of comfort with Agent Venom as he did with Flash Thompson. Was that weird for him? Did he question it? Or did he not even notice? 

With a hum, they tilted their head up to see the sky too and all the twinkling little dots that shown through the faint haze of smog that was always around the city. More stars than Flash could ever remember seeing on his own in New York. "I can see them." They tilted their head and pointed up to a wavy line of stars. "Cassiopeia is over there. And... That's Cepheus there next to it. Perseus to the left. You might be able to see Capella, it's part of the Auriga constellation." When the looked back over, Eddie was openly staring at them. "What?" 

"Just trying to figure out if it's the Agent with astronomy knowledge or if it's V." 

They shook their head with a snort and turned back towards their target building. "One of them has to google what their zodiac sign is whenever someone asks and the other lived in space, Eddie. There aren't any fixed constellations out there when you're traveling through a field of stars, not like there are here, and each planet has different names for different star positions, but all it took was fifteen minutes on the internet for it to have our place in the universe mapped out."

Eddie tucked his knees up to his chest with a soft smile as he glanced back up. "That almost sounds romantic. Him mapping out our place in the universe. It's a big place. You ever think about all the crazy intricacies that led to him being here at the same time as you? I mean... He's been around for a long time, right? I bet our lifespans go by in a blink to him but somehow, out of all the planets in the universe, he made it to this one within the brief span of your life. And somehow, out of all the people on earth, you two found each other." 

The wistfulness of his tone had them glancing back at Eddie. "You almost make it sound like it was fate that brought the two of us together." 

Eddie shrugged. "Might of been, if you believe in that kind of thing." 

"Then maybe it was fate that brought us to you, too." 

Silence fell between them for a few heartbeats, Eddie staring them in the eyes with an expression that they couldn't really place. It didn't look bad, but something about it was intense. It carried the same kind of tension that would come before a kiss and they half expected Eddie to lean in for one. But then he was glancing away with an amused huff of breath. 

"Nice line, V, but I'm afraid I'd have to discuss any extra-terrestrial affairs with my boyfriend first." 

That sent a small thrill through Flash and earned a warm kind of appreciation from the symbiote at the show of Eddie's loyalty for its host. That didn't stop them from responding with an amused, "And if he said it was fine?" 

Eddie rose his brows. "You must have some really good vision if you can see the stars even with all the city lights around. How does that work?" 

"Subtle subject change. I take it you won't be asking your boyfriend about any extra-terrestrial affairs, then." Agent Venom returned to their building watching. Still no sign of Price. "We have sharper senses when we're together but the human brain is a pretty limiting factor. The symbiote takes in information in ways that are difficult for a human to process. It's less about physical senses and more, uh... Metaphysical, I guess? It enhances what the human has but then it senses things in its own way and the human brain translates that however it can. Relying just on what's enhanced, I could probably see a decent amount of stars if I really looked, but the symbiote  _feels_  them. I guess it's like a kind of psychic awareness, almost. Like it's part of the universe and the universe is an extension of it, so it's aware of the stars the same way you're aware of where the end of your finger is even with your eyes closed. The human brain processes that as sight and fills in the details of what's supposed to be there. It's the difference between hosting the symbiote and being one with the symbiote."

Flash could remember looking up at the sky through the same pair of eyes, squinting through streetlights and seeing just a few clusters through the light where a normal person would have seen nothing. It was a reminder of far they had come since then, that he had a whole sky full of twinkling stars.

"Sounds trippy," Eddie muttered, right about the same time as a black car turned onto the street they were overlooking, heading for the building they were watching. Agent Venom sat up and Eddie turned around to see what had their attention, both of them watching the black car pull to a stop in front of the building. Eddie raised his camera to snap a few shots of Lee Price getting out of the back and heading inside. "Alright, I guess that's showtime, then. You have the recorder?" 

They raised their hand, a portion of symbiote matter pulling back to reveal the device. "Got it." 

"Good. And remember, we need solid evidence that'll hold up in court. Which means you can't threaten or torture a confession out of the guy. Just try to keep him talking as long as you can and if fighting starts, leave as much evidence intact as possible so the police have more to get him on. I'll see how many of the bastards I can get pictures of from up here." 

There was a questioning furrow at the tops of their eyes when they glanced over at Eddie and all of his instructions. "Do you reporters ever have fun?" 

Eddie rolled his eyes. "You idea of fun is  _very_  different from mine, buddy." 

"I don't know, we have a lot in common. I think it might overlap more than you assume it would." 

Eddie pushed at their shoulder, his irritation likely just for show. "Stop hitting on me and get to work. Unlike you, I have a deadline to meet and other things I could be doing right now." 

They raised their hands in mock surrender as they stood, then gave Eddie a salute before stepping up onto the ledge and dropping off the side of the building. They didn't miss the alarmed curse that Eddie hissed out as they fell. 

 

* * *

 

They were welcomed with open fire as soon as they were noticed, which was almost immediately after they crept through the upper story window. Good thing it wasn't a stealth mission because there was nowhere to actually hide or take cover. The inside of the building had been gutted and cleared out, the walls, ceiling, and floor all striped concrete with walls knocked down to make one large, open room interrupted with concrete support pillars and a walkway all along the top. The pillars might have provided cover but it was too well-lit for them to go unnoticed hiding behind them and there were too many people with semi-automatics anyway, someone would have been bound to notice them. 

Still, they thought that maybe they would have a couple minutes to sneak around, maybe overhear a conversation or two. At least get a read on the situation and what they were walking into but the second their feet touched the floor, some jerk off to their left was calling out and there was a hail of stinging bullets. For a few long seconds they could only raise their arms defensively and press their back against the wall, the pressure of the hits damn near painful but not exactly dangerous. 

The stream of bullets slowed then stopped as their assailants waited to see what the damage was or reloaded their weapons. Agent Venom peeked out from behind their arms, portions of their mass steaming and rippling from the heat. Ah, maybe that had been the painful part, the heat of the bullets, not the force of impact. That made more sense. Still wasn't dangerous, just uncomfortable. 

"You guys done now? Hate to make you waste all that ammo. Shit's expensive." The few people who had managed to reload quick enough started shooting again but it wasn't enough to keep them pinned down. The vaulted over the railing, tendrils snapping out to grab a couple thugs on the walkway to drag down with them. The thugs made good weapons against the other thugs. "I guess your boss can afford the loss. Pardon me for thinking about cost efficiency. But since I'm not making money off of an illegal criminal organization..." The tendrils dropped the men they had been swinging around and instead reached out to snatch weapons from ones that were still shooting at them, turning them back on their owners. 

"Hey. Hey!" Price. From the upper walkway. They heard but none of the others did so Agent Venom pretended he didn't either, not until Price's voice was sharp enough to cut across the sound of gunfire. Everyone cautiously paused to look at his glowering face as he leaned against the railing. " _Hey!_  Would you dipshits mind watching where you're firing?"

"Looks like someone made daddy mad." A few people hesitantly lowered their weapons. Agent Venom slammed the butts of the two rifles he was holding into the faces of two of Price's men, bringing them down hard. "Misbehaving kids are the worst, aren't they, Price? Though I'm thinking their upbringing might be a factor."

It was a little satisfying when Price's eyes narrowed before sweeping over the goons left standing. "All of you, get out. It's not like you're doing any good. Go!" 

When the boss says to scram, it's apparently serious. This time they didn't need another order, they all headed for exits. Some bolting, others taking the time to grab unconscious bodies. Agent Venom kept their eyes on Price, the tendrils sinking back into their body. "I'm almost disappointed. Wasn't expecting this place to be so empty, Price." Keep him talking, right? Get him to admit to whatever illegal bullshit he was up to. 

Now that his men were gone, Price almost looked as relaxed as the first time they met. He crossed his arms over the rail and smirked down at them. "You know, I have to hand it to you, Agent. You're almost starting to piss me off, and that's not an easy thing to do." 

They tilted their head. "Is it because you have trouble feeling emotional responses to situations? I'm pretty sure a therapist could help you figure out what's going on with that. Sounds like a personality disorder." 

"Because I have contingency plans if things come up. It makes it easy to work around minor inconveniences like you," Price corrected smoothly. "That's all you are. A chip on my phone screen or getting my shirt caught on a doorknob. It was funny the first time, but dealing with a few of them over the course of a day gets annoying quick." 

"Oh, am I actually interrupting your business? Which part of it?" 

Price pushed himself off the rail and straightened up with a polite smile. "It doesn't matter, Agent, I'm done playing games with you. I have business to attend to and it's more important than whatever your fancy suit can do." 

What was  _that_  supposed to mean?

Without any further explanation, Price turned for door that lead to the stairway behind the building. "Hang on, you can't just--" The second the door opened they felt the tingle of an electrical current run through the room. It was all the warning they had before the pillars closest to the center of the room-- closest to  _them_  --exploded in a rush of heat and fire. It happened quick. The force knocked them off their feet, the heat and fire tearing at the symbiote. The pained screech of it in his head was short-lived, though. It cut off abruptly when the ceiling caved in. There was enough time for a second of panic and crushing agony before everything went black.

 

* * *

 

**\--ake up! Flash!**

His ears were ringing in an all-too familiar way, making it impossible for him to know if the world was really muted and silent or if it was just him. The voice in his head was as loud as ever, panicked and hurting.  _He_  was hurting.  _They_  were hurting. 

Flash focused his gaze, trying to make sense of the situation. Cracked concrete and twisted metal and the still-standing edges of a building with the windows blown out. They weren't completely buried, that was a relief. His vision was swimming, though, disjointed and flicking between inhuman detail to blurry and flat. His hand was in his field of vision, still covered in black. That explained why he wasn't coughing in the settling dust or feeling the ache in his ribs since he wasn't really breathing, wasn't moving. Still hurt. 

The symbiote was in rough shape, he could feel it. It had taken the brunt of that blast and it felt like they were still on fire, still burning, but the concrete surrounding them had put out the flames or kept anything from catching fire so it was just lingering damage. There was pressure over them, pinning them, but it wasn't crushing them. Yet. Flash wasn't sure if moving would cause something to shift but he needed to check the damage. 

**We're fine. Don't move. It's not bad. I'm handling this.**

Flash trusted the symbiote with his life but he wasn't an idiot and the panic he could feel was a dead giveaway that it wasn't fine. They shifted, just a bit, and the stabbing pain had them crying out, Flash's vision swimming and threatening to go black again. Right side, above his hip. Steeling himself for the pain this time, he slid their hand back, shaky fingers brushing against the jagged metal bar stabbing through them. 

Shit. 

**Stop moving!**

Their connection was disjointed. The symbiote was burnt and exhausted and Flash was going into shock, big surprise there. His body wanted to breathe, wanted to hyperventilate, but the symbiote was keeping him still and halting his breath, filtering oxygen for him directly and warring with his body's desire to freak the fuck out. It was also keeping him covered, keeping him  _alive_ , holding them together, and trying to heal itself and its host. Flash stilled and let their eyes close, concentrating on the feeling of the symbiote and connecting to its senses to get a feel for the situation.

A piece of concrete above them. It was stable enough that it wasn't at a serious risk of crushing them. The problem was the steel bar from that piece had stabbed them through and was keeping them pinned in place. It was the cause of the pressure and it dug into the concrete under them, making it impossible to simply pull off the bar. Not that the symbiote wasn't trying. Tendrils were pushing at the slab above them, trying to lift it off but it was too weak, stretching itself too thin to put it's full strength into the job. 

They were bleeding. 

Flash couldn't remember ever bleeding as Agent Venom. He didn't think it was possible. He wasn't sure the mechanics, but in this form he should have been like soup, like how the symbiote was in his body. Anything that pierced through the symbiote matter just met more symbiote matter and then it all stitched itself back together. 

They were bleeding. 

 **Not cohesive. Otherwise we could slip around the bar. Too hurt. Flash...**  Whatever it was going to say after trailing off uncertainly was interrupted.  **Eddie! Eddie is coming.**

Their ears were still ringing, he couldn't hear Eddie but he could feel the presence hastily scrambling up the rubble and he could sense the waves of his voice disturbing the air. It was burning agony to move his hand and try to reach up and wave. He tried to call out but their voice was muffled and quiet, like it was coming out through cotton. Must have been loud enough to draw attention, though. The next second, Eddie's face was appearing in front of them, pale and terrified. His lips moved, saying something that Flash couldn't make out, then his eyes landed on the bar and he scrambled forward, one hand grabbing theirs and his other reaching out to hesitantly touch the bar, coming away red with blood. He was talking rapidly now and Flash could only catch onto a couple words. 

He tried to tell Eddie that he couldn't hear him but then something was  _clicking_ , like an audio jack sliding into place and-- "--you move? Can you feel your legs? Holy shit, what can I-- What do I do? Are you... Are you pinned down anywhere else besides the... Jesus." 

They squeezed Eddie's hand. "We'll be fine. We need you to help push this up so we can get out from under the bar." 

It wasn't him talking, that was the symbiote. But their hand looked like a glove. Was he still in control? No. No, the symbiote was just keeping up appearances so Eddie wouldn't panic. It was in so much pain and Flash ached to hold it close but it was too busy keeping him wrapped up and safe. Keeping their anonymity intact. Keeping them from dying. Keeping Flash from fully going into shock. 

Eddie looked like the last thing he wanted to do was move from their side but he took a shaky breath, gave their hand another squeeze, then stood up to follow instructions. He braced his back against the edge of the concrete and pushed. With the symbiote straining itself alongside him, the concrete shifted and Flash cried out as the bar shifted with it, sending sickening waves of pain through them. Eddie faltered at the sound, grunting under the weight of the concrete, but the symbiote was taking over, forcing him silent before biting out a firm, "Keep pushing, Eddie!" 

He did, and Flash rode out the pain just as silently as the symbiote as inch by agonizing inch, the bar was pulled out. The second it was out, they were clawing their way out from under it until it stabbed back down an inch from where they had been seconds ago. The symbiote's control lapsed as the tendrils sunk back into them and Flash was left to press their hand to the wound with a pained gasp, breaths coming back in heaving pants. "Sh-Shit... Shit." 

Eddie was at his side again, hands fluttering and unsure what to do. "We need to get you somewhere. A... A hospital or--" 

"No. Don't n-need to." His turn to take over. He could feel the symbiote working on repairing the wound but it was slow going and Flash knew after taking a blast like that, it was probably pulling energy from one of his kidneys or consuming parts of his liver to keep itself going. Choosing to wreck non-vital things to heal vital damage. They could repair the purposeful damage afterwards. Right now the symbiote needed to concentrate on keeping its form and holding everything together, Flash needed to handle the rest. "We'll heal. We will. Just gonna take a little bit." 

Eddie didn't look convinced but he didn't push the hospital. "What the hell happened?" 

"Setup." Had to be. "They had the place rigged." And the entire back wall and the exit Price at taken was still standing. The force of the blast had been calculated. Either Price had worked with explosives during his time in the military or he knew someone who had. 

**Sirens.**

Fucking great. Flash offered their hand. "Help me up, we have to go."

"Where? Uh... My place?" After a brief hesitation, Eddie took the hand and helped pull them to their feet, bracing himself for their weight and coaxing them to lean against him. They were shaky enough that they didn't have a choice.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine." 

 

* * *

 

Eddie was panicking. There was edge in Agent Venom's voice that made it sound like he was on the edge of panic but resolutely pushing through. Their Uber driver was puzzled and concerned as he kept looking back at them in his rear-view mirror. 

"Are you  _sure_  I shouldn't be dropping you off at the ER?" he asked skeptically for about the third time. "I feel like I should definitely be dropping you off at the ER, dude." He sounded calm but then again he was in his early twenties and that generation had a weird way of expressing all of their panic and anxiety as just mild concerns at most. A vigilante ordering an Uber a block away from an explosion with a jacket pressed to his bleeding wound to avoid getting it all over some guy's car with a shivering man who was down one jacket and looked like he was seconds away from losing his motherfucking shit? That was nothing compared to the crushing debt of student loans for a college degree you needed five years of experience for in order to get into the field but no way to get that experience without being in the field. 

"We're fine," Eddie muttered. 

Their driver pursed his lips. "Do you know how bad I'll feel if I watch the news and see that my favorite vigilante was found dead 'cause I was irresponsible and didn't take him to the ER?"

Agent Venom had been staring blankly out the window. Or maybe blankly, it was hard too tell if he was actually paying attention to anything they were driving past. The words had him tuning back in, turning his head to stare at the mirror with narrowed eyes. "Huh... Favorite vigilante?" God. He sounded so worn and pained, his voice soft but strained and maybe a little dazed, like he wasn't quite all there. It made Eddie's throat tighten painfully at how helpless he felt. 

"Yeah, dude! You're awesome. I like the whole cryptid thing you got going on." Agent Venom tilted his head with a questioning hum. "Oh, uh, like... No one knows who you are or where you came from. You're not like Iron Man or Captain America, your face isn't out there for the world. But you're not like the other guys who keep their identities a secret. Spider-Man has a YouTube channel and he's out there in broad daylight in those bright colors so people see him. You're in the shadows. Just appeared in the city one day with no obvious motivations, helping people out without making it a show. I like that. It's cool." 

"Oh." Agent Venom almost sounded surprised. Surprised and a little bit embarrassed at the praise. "Uh... Thanks. Just doing what I can. This hurts like a bitch but it takes more than this to kill me."

Thank fucking god. 

 

* * *

 

Eddie lowered Agent Venom to the couch and took his hand to carefully pull the jacket back from the wound with a frown. "The bleeding's slowed... I think." 

"Sorry 'bout your jacket." 

He was sounding a less pained, more exhausted and out of it, but Eddie wasn't sure if that was actually a good thing or not. He pressed the jacket back to the wound and gave Agent Venom's hand a pat. "Don't worry about it. Talk to me, how are you guys doing?" 

Agent Venom's free hand made a vague, sloppy gesture. "We're... Not in great shape but we'll survive. The symbiote is trying to repair the damage but it's hurt pretty bad itself. Something like this would have healed up in seconds but it doesn't do well against fire. The initial explosion was rough, shook us up a little, and we're having some trouble operating on the same level with the human part of us fighting to go into shock. But we'll live." He slumped further into the couch, blank white eyes staring at Eddie and if he didn't know any better, Eddie might have thought that the guy actually  _looked_  tired. "You wouldn't happen to have anymore hot chocolate, would you?" 

Eddie blinked dumbly at the odd request. "Uh... Yeah, I think." He went to check, pausing halfway there to glance back at Agent Venom with a frown. Either he was asking for hot chocolate as a comfort thing, which was heartbreaking to think about, or he was asking because of the chocolate. It was Venom's favorite but hearing him ask for it now of all times made Eddie think that there might have been more to it. "I have actual chocolate, if you'd rather that." 

"Yeah? Even better." Nodding, he continued to the pantry. It was going to be a surprise for the next time Agent Venom dropped by, he just didn't expect it to go quite like this, but if chocolate somehow helped with the healing process then maybe it was a good thing he had gone with the whim and splurged on a stupid present for his alien friend. Agent Venom's eyes narrowed when Eddie pulled out the large box from his pantry. "What is that?" They widened when Eddie sheepishly flipped the box around to show off the five pound chunk of milk chocolate shaped like a garden gnome. "What... _Why_?" 

He shrugged as he sat down on the couch to start unwrapping the figure. "Saw it in a novelty store and it seemed like something V might like, so... I snagged it. It was on sale." Eddie was starting to get used to that expressionless, lifeless stare. "What? I wanted to do something nice to thank him for not consuming all of humanity." 

Eddie had also long since equated the curve of Agent Venom's eyes to a smile. It still had a weird way of looking tired and pinched, but it was there and soft as he shook his head slowly. "You're something else, Eddie."

 

* * *

 

They had spent the night but when the sun rose and Eddie was dead asleep on the end of the couch next to them, they made their escape through the window. The chocolate had helped but the symbiote needed actual rest and something a bit more...  _Meaty_. Flash didn't often indulge those cravings but this was a rough situation. They left a note, Flash purposely messing up his handwriting so Eddie's keen sense of observation wouldn't latch onto the similarities. They just didn't want him to worry when he woke up alone with his bloodstained jacket soaking in cold salt water in the sink. 

Flash found himself partially glad that Eddie didn't know about them. He felt more than a little dumb for insisting he could handle himself only to get blown up and impaled. The situations were very different and he had survived but it was a wake-up call of sorts. They weren't indestructible and Lee Price was a conniving sonovabitch that they needed to approach more carefully in the future. Or avoid altogether until they had a set plan. 

The next day Eddie came over, he was distracted and distant but despite that, the two of them ended up wrapped around each other on the couch, silently clutching each other close. It would have been sweet if Flash didn't know the exact reason Eddie's arms would suddenly tighten around him and his exhale would tremble until he righted himself again. Instead he just silently took the comfort, mentally pushing it towards the silent mental space where he knew the symbiote was resting and healing. There was a flicker of warmth before the symbiote faded back into exhausted silence.

Yeah. They definitely needed to figure out another way to get to Price. They couldn't afford to play into his hands again.


End file.
